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[resident-kennedy49]

Venomous // NSFW Leon Kennedy x fem! reader

Summary: An attack during an attack leaves Leon injured and increasingly delirious. After extraction, he’s whisked away, and nobody’s fucking telling you what’s going on. Finally, you get a phone call. It changes everything.

WC: ~5k

CW: NSFW, like REALLY NSFW, you and Leon are partnered DSO agents, Leon is injured, fuck or die, sex pollen, sex venom, shaky safety practices, no use of y/n, no mention of ages, first time (together), friends to lovers, technically coworkers to lovers, handjob, unprotected p in v, creampies, multiple orgasms (Leon), he's a hopeless romantic at heart, happy ending

Notes: MINORS DNI

“You say you saw the suits.”

“Yeah, in passing.”

“You didn’t think they were important?”

“It’s a fucking lab. Labs are rife with hazmat suits. We’ve never had to equip them before.”

“There were warnings posted all over the exit.”

“There were zombies all up on our ass.”

The splattering offspray from Leon’s last-minute shot paints your back like a gory Jackson Pollock. The infected hits the floor, tripping two more.

It would be more helpful if there weren’t about a thousand of them closing in.

You’re running side by side with Leon, shoes eating up the sterile white floors, trying to divine an exit through the branching arteries of the lab. He has to veto a turn into a side hall when more shambling figures lunge forward; he grabs your arm to tug you away with him, but it’s an unnecessary precaution. You’ve already matched his footwork.

He glances behind as you run.

“Where the fuck are they coming from?”

You’d like to fucking know.

“And why are they all runners?”

You’ve dealt with your fair share of speed-boosted infected; limbs windmilling, clawing and careening, all bursting energy and no finesse.

These aren’t blisterheads. They have stamina. They’re keeping up.

You twist and shoot one whose fingers are uncomfortably close to swiping the back of Leon’s shirt. The nearby white paneled wall goes bright, splotchy red.

“Intel’s getting a new one ripped if we make it out of this,” you pant, breath dry and ragged in your throat. Your lungs are burning.

“We’re making it out,” Leon tells you. Conclusive, no room for argument. He dodges left, hand once again grazing your arm to pull you with, but you’re already there, a perfect shadow.

This hall is wider, brightly lit with glass cases set in between the wall panels.

You’ve only got eyes on one thing as you run.

EXIT

It’s a final sprint.

You grit your teeth, breath loud in your ears, arms and legs pumping hard, trying to build a gap that allows for a sudden smack into the double doors, a loss of momentum and reversal of motion to slam the barrier closed.

‘Slam’ turns out to be optimistic. It’s a hydraulic close. Glacially fucking slow.

“Fuck! Force it!”

You almost bash heads with Leon, throwing your combined weight against the doors as the calamitous wall of infected catch up, arms reaching through the diminishing gap, scratching and clawing at you.

With a roar of effort, the doors finally give way under pressure and close with a crunch. An arm, hand, and various fingers fall onto the concrete.

“Bar it! Bar it!” Leon’s braced against both doors, his body a wedge, jarred by the furious thumping from the other side.

There are massive pneumatic rod locks on either side of the door. The control panel is dark.

“There’s no power!”

“You’re armed!”

Oh, right.

BANG T-SHUNK

Smoke curls from the barrel of your gun. The blasted hole in the control panel sparks weakly, fizzes, then goes dark.

Leon pushes away from the secured doors, rubbing at his ear. Your head’s ringing like a struck bell and you’d been back at arm’s length, not parallel with the barrel.

“Say something?”

“Something.”

“Yeah, can’t hear shit.”

"You only look like it.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

He’s flipping you off.

You grab it like a pinky promise, linking middle fingers, and he rolls his eyes.

“Alright. Let’s bounce,” you say.

He pulls you back. Urgent, abrupt. It bumps you against him.

“Wait.”

You’re in a greenhouse.

Rows and rows of lush, overgrown plants stretch unfamiliar leaves towards a glass-paneled sky. The walkways between rows are made of industrial metal grating, a stale funk rising from the darkness underneath.

No breeze is stirring the air. The back of your neck starts prickling; your animal brain tugging on your metaphorical hem and pointing.

The plants are rustling lightly.

Leon half-turns his head towards you, keeping his eyes on the jungle ahead.

“What’s the sitrep on the door?”

It’s still thumping against the locks, battered by the relentless undead. You glance at the panel you’d shot, burst and gutted, the wall above it blackened.

“Fucked.”

“Other doors?”

It’s just wall. Wall, and wall, and wall, smooth and inhospitable.

“Negative.”

“How long can you hold your breath?”

“I don’t think that’s the concern.”

You’re playing back the last hallway. White walls broken by glass panels, streaking by as you run. Behind every glass panel, a bright orange suit, thick like leather.

Bite-proof.

“Fuck.”

“So you tried to bypass it underground.”

“So we tried to bypass it underground,” you confirm. You watch the man nod, taking notes. He’s a leftie.

“Good thinking.”

“Yeah, well. Apparently not.”

The metal grating isn’t light. Thankfully, you and Leon aren’t weak.

The daylight sits like oil on top of water, only greasing weakly off of the reflective metal of more walkways below; descending levels disappearing into the dark.

“Oh, good. Can’t see the bottom.”

“Endless possibilities,” Leon says. “Cover me.”

The first level is an eight foot drop. Leon swings his legs into the gap, scoots forward, and eases himself down slowly, like he’s waiting for something to file a violent complaint. When nothing does, he drops onto the walkway, the metal clanging despite his rubber soles.

He shines his flashlight forward.

“Ugh.”

“What?”

“Love what they’ve done with the space.” He pockets the flashlight, reaching up to you. “It’s a charm you have to see in person.”

His hands are firm on your sides, your shirt riding up a little as he supports you down onto the platform with him. He absently fixes your rucked hem as you shine your flashlight into the gloom.

“Ugh,” you agree.

Roots.

Long, white, spidery roots hang from the ceiling in lengthy clumps and bundles, like massive, cobwebby chandeliers.

Leon’s eyes narrow, scrutinizing.

“Hey. Look.”

He steps forward, reaching into the nearest nest of gauzy filaments. He pulls his hand out, fingers curled around a narrow, dark plastic tube.

You come closer with the flashlight.

The dark color is red.

“It’s warm,” Leon adds, horribly.

The tube snakes off into the darkness below. You point your flashlight down and catch a glint off of something flat, circular, and shiny.

Leon’s separating more tubes from the leggy mass of roots. Only the one is red, but the others don’t look any less… organic.

“God. Which way do you think they run?”

He glances at you. “Three guesses.”

“Plants don’t bleed red.”

“Not typically.”

You share a resigned look, then he brushes past you, face set.

You turn to find him making quick work of the stairs down to the lower levels, hand on his gun.

You check your pistol's chamber and follow.

“A line of tanks.”

“Life support tanks, yes. Dozens.”

“Which way were the tubes running?”

“Both ways.”

“So…”

“The tanks were feeding the plants, and the plants were feeding the tanks.”

“Life support, you said. So there were … humans? Inside the tanks?”

“Yeah,” you say, looking away. “Used to be.”

There’s a thick film of slime on the tank, like growing snot. Your flashlight can’t make out anything coherent inside.

Leon shines his flashlight down the row; cylinder after cylinder, standing like a row of human-sized batteries, all mucky with slime and tickled by the trailing ends of roots from the massive bundles overhead.

Somewhere ahead, a steady dripping, echoing. You don’t appreciate the cliche.

“When was the initial outbreak?” Now that you’re on solid ground, your voice seems to suck right into the floor.

“All the lab logs and entries stop around six months ago.”

“So no one’s been down here for half a year.”

“Yeah.”

Leon shares a long look with you, mouth tight. Then, hesitant, he wipes a window through the muck on the nearest tank.

The beam of his flashlight illuminates the chamber. You can see a vague shadow suspended inside, like a bug in rough, raw amber.

He steps back, jaw tight.

“Dare I even ask?”

He shakes his head. “It’ll put you off soup.”

You shine your flashlight upwards; the root balls catch it and glow, high overhead.

“What was so wrong with good ol’ hydroponics?”

“Let’s just get out of here,” Leon says, heading off down the line of tanks.

“Twist my arm.”

“You didn't see it?”

“It was behind one of the tanks. In the dark.”

“You didn't hear it?”

“It was a little noisy at the time,” you say, annoyed.

Third tank from the last, everything goes spectacularly tits up.

Glass shatters outward, slimy and wet as it ricochets off your defensively raised arms. The body in the tank falls forward and swipes for Leon’s legs.

It’s not like the infected you’re used to, desiccated and dry as jerky.

This one is wet. This one is dissolving, skin sloughing from muscle sloughing from bone. Entrails spill from its body cavity, slippery, spreading across the hoary concrete as the disgusting thing writhes for a claim on your partner’s ankle.

Leon stumbles out of reach, gun aiming at the mucky skull. It explodes like a sixpack in a hot car and you’re shouting, ducking behind your arm again—

That’s when the other thing strikes.

Leon shouts in pain and tries to tear free. The pale, rubbery thing keeps hold of his shoulder like an overexcited dog with a rope toy.

“Leon!”

It’s too close to his head and he’s thrashing, you don’t have a clear shot. Something glints in the shadows behind his hip.

The hatchet. He’s already grabbed it.

A roar, a swing, the song of a sharp blade slicing clean through something organic.

The pale thing hits the ground with a sound like a rotting squash, the vine swinging empty into the darkness behind the tanks.

Leon falls to one knee with a grunt, the hatchet clattering onto the concrete.

“Leon! Leon,” you’re touching his back, crouching down with him. He’s breathing hard through his nose, clutching his shoulder. The fabric is darkening under his hand.

“Let me see. Leon.”

You shove his hand clear, unzipping his collar and yanking it aside.

His skin is patterned with circular rows of bleeding dashes. Lots of them.

“What the fuck.”

The pale, rubbery thing lies flaccid on the floor behind Leon. At first glance, it looks like a starfish collapsed on itself.

At second glance, you start to see the teeth, fine and triangular, in diminishing rows like a shark.

Pink with blood.

“Shit. Hey.”

Leon’s still on one knee, head down. You push his hair back, leaving a bloody streak on his skin, and tip his face up. There’s sweat on his forehead.

It takes him a moment to focus on you.

“Tell me what you’re feeling.”

He grunts. His pupils are a little too big, even for the dim lighting, and they’re not reacting right when you pass your flashlight closer.

You’re trying not to panic.

“Can you get up? Can you walk?”

He lets you haul him to his feet but shoves you off when you go to duck under his arm. You don’t take offense; it’s a good sign. He’s steady enough on his own.

“Grab that,” he tells you, voice rough. He’s holding his shoulder again, pointing down at the beheaded plant. You pick it up by the little stem of vine, grab his hatchet, and follow him close, ascending fast while he calls for extraction.

You don’t wait for your debrief to finish writing.

“What did the labs say?”

“They’re still running tests.”

“What did Medical say?”

“They’re still running tests.”

“What, with a potato? Where's the sense of urgency, here?”

“At last report, Mr. Kennedy was stable,” he says, capping his pen.

“He was half delirious coming off that chopper!”

“They’ve determined he’s in no immediate danger.”

“How can they know if they’re still running fucking tests?”

You get your name in an admonishing tone. You stand up, your chair screeching against the floor.

“I wanna see him.”

“He’s in precautionary isolation.”

“I was exposed to the same bullshit he was. I wanna see him.”

“You weren't bitten.”

“What, you think he’s gonna bite me?”

Your debrief just looks back at you, calm and level, his hands folded prim over the closed folder containing your account of the whole goddamn shit-spackled mission.

“He’s in precautionary isolation,” he repeats.

Your teeth grind, a muscle in your jaw jumping.

“Are we done here?”

“Yes. You are free to go.”

Medical stops you at the door. They aren’t fooled by your purposeful stride, your bored but intent expression. They hook your arm and yank you away like it’s goddamn Looney Tunes.

“We were told you might try that.”

Fucking debrief.

So now you’re sitting at home, dialing the Medical desk every fifteen minutes, certain from the complete non-activity of the past four hours that they’ve filtered your number as spam.

Assholes.

You should go to bed. Medical’s kept you both alive thus far, through hell and high water. Leon’s in good hands. Stable. No immediate danger, they said.

You rotate your phone in your hand, over and over. Upside-down, rightside-up. Staring at nothing.

You call the labs.

Some poor idiot actually picks up.

“I-I-I can’t give you that information,” he stammers, when you demand an update on Leon. On the biting plant. On fucking anything.

“I’m his partner! I was ground zero when it happened!”

“I-I can’t verify that over the phone.”

“Then I’m coming in,” you say, prim. You hang up on more panicked stammering, tossing your phone aside on the couch.

You’ve barely made it to your feet when your phone starts ringing.

Incoming Call Leonnedy

You stub your toe on the couch in your scramble to pick up.

“Leon! Are you okay?”

Immediately you can tell he’s not.

“I need help,” he says. Croaks.

Cold sweat breaks on your skin.

“Where are you? What’s wrong?”

“I’m… I can’t…” He gasps.

You’re a whirl of activity. You’re grabbing your wallet, your keys, pulling a jacket on over your pajamas. There’s no fucking time to change.

“Leon, where are you.”

“Home.”

“What?” You stop cold in your mad dashing, gripping the phone too hard. “They sent you home like this?”

“They said I could take care of it.”

“Take care of what? They won’t tell me fucking anything, Leon–“

He groans through clenched teeth and oh boy, Medical’s gonna find out just how creative you can be when it comes to revenge. You shove your feet ungracefully into some shoes and grab for the door handle.

“The venom,” Leon’s panting in your ear, and then he gets to the zinger. “It’s an aphrodisiac.”

You feel it like lightning, a surge throughout your entire body. Your visual of his situation, based on the noises he’s making, takes a dramatic turn.

“Leon.”

“It’s been six goddamn hours,” he grits out.

“Jesus christ, can’t you just–”

“I’ve tried,” he says. “I’m just goddamn edging myself.”

“Did you call Medical? There’s gotta be something they can–”

“Fucking useless,” Leon says, confirming your hypothesis. “They told me to hire an escort.”

“What?”

“I’m not— fuck— fucking doing that.”

You thump your forehead against your front door, your grip on the doorknob tight enough to crush.

“Leon, if you… there’s no shame. They’re professio–”

“No,” he cuts in. “I don’t…” He breaks off, breath hissing through his teeth, and then fails to elaborate.

That’s alright; you’ve got a pressing question.

“Why’d you call me?”

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. You just have to listen to him breathe like this.

Your vivid imagination is a fucking curse.

"I trust you,” he finally tells you. “I know how this… I don’t have… I trust you.”

You’re partners.

No, you’re coworkers. What he’s asking is… can he ask this? What happens to your partnership in the aftermath? Can you go back to–

“Please,” he breathes in your ear, and tops it with your name.

You wrench the door open.

Before you hang up, he gives you the code for the garage door, and fair warning.

You’re still not prepared.

As partners, you’ve seen each other in various states of undress. Usually partial. Usually because you’re bleeding somehow. Always clinical.

This doesn’t feel like the far end of the same spectrum. This feels like a g-force journey into a different dimension.

Leon’s on his couch, head back, knees wide. Taut like a bowstring.

Completely, stark, buck-ass naked.

His shoulder looks like a bisected watermelon, his skin dewy and pink, dotted with the dark little toothmarks from the venomous plant.

His chest is heaving, his hips restless.

His cock is flushed dark, painfully engorged, thick and pulsing against his stomach. There’s a wet smear on his skin; when his cock lifts, straining, it trails a sticky little string of precum.

“Christ,” you rasp, tossing your jacket aside.

He lifts his head and his eyes can barely focus on you. He looks on the verge of passing out, but he reaches out, reaches for you. You shove a bottle of lube out of the way on the couch cushions and take his outstretched hand.

“I’m here. What do you–“

“Touch,” he pants, barely coherent. “Touch me.”

And here you are in the deep end, no time to brace, no time to breathe. You’re touching him, chamois soft skin, hot and unyielding. His hips jerk on a gasp, a groan dragging from somewhere deep within as he lets his head fall back on the couch.

The hot, swooping sensation in your stomach physically bends you, punches your breath out.

You’ve never handled a dick this hard in your entire life.

You’ve maybe never handled a dick this big in your entire life. He’s long and thick, the head flared, cerise and glistening. You pass your thumb over his slit, smearing through the precum, and his stomach tautens as he pushes up into your hand, his breath rushing out hot, hissing back in. He’s desperate.

He breathes your name. His ass keeps flexing with the helpless motion of his hips and his eyes are closed, forehead knotted.

It’s intense concentration. His world narrowed down, only as wide as the circle of your fist.

Six goddamn hours.

You tighten your grip, trail your other hand up the lightly furred inside of his thigh, teasing his balls before stacking your fists and starting to pump him in a steady rhythm that answers the flex of his body.

His hand lands on your thigh, searing, his fingertips firm on your flesh and pulling. Your knee presses tighter against his leg.

He’s just grappling for a hold on something, for an anchor. His other hand is doing the same thing to the arm of the couch. You just hope he doesn’t move his hand any further to the left on you or he’s gonna find you a little too slippery to hold onto.

Fuck, you’re only goddamn human.

You jerk him faster, his hips starting to meet you in earnest, his body rolling as he chases his disobliging release.

And why couldn’t he get there himself?

What if… what if you can’t get him there, either? You don’t know anything about the venom, they’re still running tests. Maybe this is the result. Maybe he’s just… stuck like this, heightening, exacerbating, until he, what, pops?

What a fucking epitaph that would be.

No, you’re not scripting headstones. That’s not happening.

You start to twist on the upstroke, a flick of the wrist, and Leon moans loud.

“That’s it. Come on, Leon.”

His balls are tightening, drawing up, his forehead beaded with sweat, his mouth open. He’s right on the edge.

“Look at me.”

He opens his eyes, glassy as they are. You make sure he can see you, and then you bend low.

His skin is velvety soft around the firm rounds of his balls. You fit your lips to one of the shapes, touch your tongue to it, tasting the salt of him.

He cries out, thick ropes of cum hitting his chest, his stomach, spurting and spilling down his shaft, smeared by your hand as you milk him through it, relieved.

You can’t stop your breathy laugh, almost lost under his aereous groans. He just keeps going.

“A little pent up?”

He doesn’t quip back. The situation is dire.

His dick gives one last pulse, the final beads of his release dribbling down the head of his cock. You rub it away with your thumb.

There’s a very noticeable issue.

He’s still incredibly hard.

When you meet his eyes, they’re a little clearer. He’s still sunset pink and breathing hard – messy, now, too – but he can track your face better.

“Do you feel any different?”

“Fuck. Barely.”

"What if you're stuck like this?"

“Don't say that," he says. You’re still stroking him, slow, like an afterthought. He drags his hands through his damp hair, hissing when it stretches the scabs on his chewed shoulder.

"It was venom, do you need some sort of antivenom?"

He doesn’t appear to be listening. His hands grip the back of the couch, his hips rolling, cock pushing through your sticky fist.

You grab his hips and force them down.

“Leon.”

He bucks hard against you, bratty.

"You think I know?”

“Don’t give me an attitude.”

“Don’t fuckin tease me,” he snaps, unwisely.

You move fast.

A whump, a gasp, the silence of breath caught in the shadow of a predator.

His breath fans out over your face; slow, tremulous.

“I’m doing you a favor,” you remind him, low, your face inches from his. “I could just leave.”

He’s not moving, trapped under you.

You’re straddling him, your fist tight at the base of his cock.

“What do you say?”

“Fuck.”

“Leon.”

“I love you.”

It rattles you like a gunshot, strikes you and spreads.

It takes your advantage, crumples it up, and throws it in a trash compactor. And then it lights that trash compactor on fire.

“That’s not fair,” you breathe.

“Sorry,” he whispers, and kisses you.

He’s upgraded your permissions. You kiss him back, heated, and let go of your leash.

He breaks from your mouth to gasp when you sit on his hips, his hands catching your waist and gripping.

“Shit.”

“So we’ve learned that I’m not a monk,” you say, a verbal roll of the eyes.

It’s not just a few tepid inches of water in your basement. At this point, your flood’s halfway up the damn walls.

He rocks his hips, rubbing himself against the soaked fabric of your pajama shorts. You keen and pick up the motion on your own.

God, you’re aching.

“You should have said something,” he says, breathless.

“That wasn’t on the invitation.”

“Aren’t you a saint.”

“Yeah. Because when you said ‘I trust you’, I heard ‘take advantage of my compromising situation’.”

“Fair,” he says, then pulls you down to speak in your ear, his scruff a ticklish rasp against your skin. “Fuck me.”

Well don’t you make the perfect pair. He’s hard as granite and you’re wet enough to sink a dinghy.

Taking off your clothes is too much fucking bother. You just shove the wet fabric to the side.

He doesn't watch where you’re taking his cock into your body, the hot, hard length of him sliding in tight past your pussy lips.

He’s watching your face. You don’t know it until you’ve got him in to the hilt, your mouth falling open on a sigh, your forehead smoothing out as you gyrate your hips, a delicious little circle, fully seated on his lap.

"Oh my god, Leon."

He comes.

Your name is somewhere in the long groan sieved through his clenched teeth before his mouth drops open, diced breaths tumbling free as he pulses inside of you, so deep, so hot and thick.

He’s still looking directly at you.

You watch his eyes clear just a little more; sharpening, focusing. Smoke becoming a mist.

“Can I tease you about premature ejaculation.”

“No.” He starts unbuttoning your pajama top. The fabric is wrinkled at your sides where he’d been gripping, almost hard enough to bruise.

“Why, because you’re still hard?” He is, but it’s different. You couldn’t bend steel around him anymore.

“Yeah,” he says simply, and grips your open collar, pulling you down into a kiss.

You arch your back, easing him to just the tip, bottoming him out again, cycling his affected breath through your own lungs. He runs his hands down your chest, grazing your nipples, his tongue reaching into your mouth to taste your sigh.

His hips press up into you, lifting you, a gentle swell. You ride it; start to rock your hips.

The fabric of your shirt whispers down your arms, chased by the skim of Leon’s palms. Goosebumps raise on your skin.

You brace your arms on the back of the couch, riding him faster. He trails his lips down the column of your neck, his scruff a pleasant scratch, his humid breaths printing your skin.

He runs the fan of his fingers over your nipples.

“Leon.”

“Lean back,” he murmurs, his teeth grazing your shoulder. “Let me see you.”

You sit back on his hips, brushing your hands over the caps of his knees. He scratches lightly down the flex of your thighs as you start slapping down on him harder, dropping your head back, gasping.

“Fuck, gorgeous, just like that.”

“God, Leon.”

Your thighs are burning. He starts meeting you, hips snapping, and you look down.

It almost does you in.

Those broad shoulders, that flushed chest. Muscles rolling and bunching under his glistening skin. Hair sticking to his forehead, wet pink lips, blown eyes hooded, watching you, too.

His hands fall to your hips and he growls, fingers bunching in your pajama shorts. Feral. Like he’s going to tear them.

He hooks his arm around your back and surges up, laying you out on the sofa. You whine when he slips out of you, but he’s lifting your hips to yank your shorts and panties down, surprisingly coordinated for the way he’s wound up.

A small part of you expects them to hit the floor with a wet slap. The rest of you is reaching for Leon, impatient, empty.

He brings your knee up, hooks your leg around his hip and pushes back in, one long thrust, his breath a humid narration. You keen, head falling back against the cushions, feeling his lips at your jaw.

He digs his arms under your shoulders, his body rocking you, fluid motions pushing and pulling as he fucks you slow, deep. You grip his back, obsessed with the animal flex of his body.

You can feel every inch of him, stroking your walls. In, out, a steady tide. You arch your back, your stomach pressing to the rippling heat of his abs.

He’s still sticky. You don’t fucking care.

“Score’s two to zero,” he tells you, breath hot against your cheek. “You gonna catch up?”

“I’m not the medical concern.”

He brings your other leg up onto his hip, adjusting. Seeking.

He finds it. You groan loud, raw, and feel him smile against your neck.

“There you are.”

Your jaw hinges open, your vision glazing over as he rubs the head of his cock against the bundle of nerves inside you. He snaps his hips, jolting a gasp out of you, then goes right back to massaging your g-spot.

“You’re not real,” you pant. He nips your skin, sharp.

“River in Egypt, sweetheart.”

You dig your heels into his glutes, pressing in like spurs, urging him faster.

“Come on, cowboy– ah!”

He pushes up onto his hands, skin slapping loud as he starts pounding into you hard and fast. You were already tightening, coil building, and he’s hit your fucking warp drive.

“Fuck, fuck, like that, Leon!”

“Shit, you better hurry,” he says through gritted teeth. His hips are stuttering, rhythm starting to fall apart.

“I told you–“

His thumb circles your clit, just one rotation, and that’s it. The bastard’s got you. Screaming, even.

You come apart beneath him, your foundation shaking, walls clenching around him, wracked by seismic waves. He gasps your name, watching you climax on his dick, then slams in deep and comes with a long, stuttering groan.

The third time, it seems, is the charm.

When his phone starts ringing, you don’t hear it at first. His head is blocking your nearest ear.

“Leon.”

“Mm.”

“Your phone.”

“Mmph.”

You shift like you’re going to try to reach for it yourself, but he’s beautifully heavy on top of you, so you don’t try very hard.

You nuzzle your face into his hair and bring your arms around him instead, closing your eyes. He hums, content.

The ringtone stops, bending to your private moment.

Five seconds later, it starts up again.

“Fuck.”

You grouse when Leon shifts up, but his reach is longer than yours and he doesn’t go far.

“Huh. Medical,” he says.

“Oh,” you say, with mock optimism.

He hits answer, settling back on top of you. You run your hand up and down his back, petting him.

“Kennedy.”

He doesn’t have his volume turned up very high. You get vague shapes of words, spoken quickly, and then Leon’s short responses, felt as much as heard, his voice thrumming through you.

“Yeah. … No. … Don’t need it. … I know. … I know. … No, I’m fine. … Sure. Bye.”

“Fucking useless,” he mutters, his phone clattering onto the coffee table. “Antivenom’s ready.”

You start giggling.

“They want me in for reassessment in the morning.”

It turns into laughter, smothered into his shoulder, and he rolls into the couch crease so he can look at you.

“What?”

“All their overtime hours,” you say. “No match for your partner’s Magical Healing Vagina.”

He laughs, a real one, his hand pulling at your hip to twist you towards him, pressing you against his body. You’re both a fucking mess, and the couch might be a write-off.

It was an emergency.

“Should get you certified,” he says. You make a skeptical noise.

“There’d be a demand.”

His arm tightens around you, minuscule. Almost imperceptible. Might’ve been completely imperceptible, if his arms weren’t so big.

“Mm. We’re sticking to best-kept-secret.”

“How selfish.”

He nuzzles your mouth with his, sharing breath.

“Yeah.”

“Hey,” you mention, to his invading tongue. He retreats and lets you speak. "Did you mean what you said, or was it just self-defense?"

"What I said?"

"Don't be obtuse.”

He brushes his lips against yours, just a snag of soft, moist skin.

"I've never lied to you," he says.

"There's a first time for everything," you say. "You're skirting the question."

He brushes your hair back, studying your face. Content to take forever, it seems.

"If it helps," you say, "I can put you back under duress."

You slide your hand to the front of his hip, laughing when he flinches away.

"Ass," he says, and rolls you onto your back again, dipping to kiss you.

"Yeah. I love you," he says, and maybe it's a little gruff. "And isn't that just a shitload of complications."

"A metric fuckton," you agree, stroking his cheek. His stubble rasps against your fingertips.

His eyes are completely clear, gaze steady looking back at you.

“But maybe it helps that I love you, too,” you murmur.

It's not a kiss this gets you. He's been dishing out all manner of kisses tonight, their significance has shifted. No.

Instead, he nuzzles his face against your neck, wraps his arms around you, and holds you. Holds you like he intends to for a very long time, like you're the only thing that matters, like your beating hearts need to carry out a close and personal conversation.

Good. They can work out the details. You're just gonna lay here and pet the hair of the man you trust most – the man you can finally admit that you love – glowingly content in his arms.

On AO3

Y'all mind if I just give our man a bad good time real quick

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist when I post these fics 🩷

Taglist: @hoovesnhorns @gracelovesgyu @lencix346 @peachyfckingkeen @itimisu

[chel-seunghyun]

I LOVE MY MOSQUITOES CIRCUS (STALKER)

니글니글 징글징글 징글징글 PRINGLES WAAH!!!

[slowburnpages]

About Story: You’ve spent your entire career protecting the quiet, ordinary life that exists beyond the walls of the entertainment industry. Jiyong, however, seems determined to cross every boundary you place between you, drawn to the fact that his fame, charm, and success never seem to impress you. The more you reject his attention, the more deeply he falls, until months of longing, fear, and carefully hidden desire finally reach a breaking point after the first concert of the tour... Pairing: Jiyong (G-Dragon) x reader Word Count: 8,806 | oneshot Content Note: workplace romance, obsessed and emotionally vulnerable Jiyong, persistent but respectful pursuit, mutual pining, reader in denial, fear of losing anonymity, repeated rejection, jealousy, angst, emotional breakdown, crying, hurt/comfort, love confession, explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, praise, tenderness, hopeful ending A/N: [request]

They say the safest place to hide a secret is right in plain sight... For you, that secret is your fear of losing your anonymity. You hide it behind professionalism, a matter-of-fact tone, and the careful distance you maintain from anything that could blur the lines between your professional and personal life.

When you join YG Entertainment as a project coordinator, you promise yourself that you’ll never let the glare of the spotlight blind you to the price people pay for it. You’ve seen artists turned into products, ordinary human mistakes turned into headlines, and a single blurry photograph destroy the life of someone whose name the public didn’t even know.

And then you meet Jiyong. For the first few months, you orbit each other with professional distance. You oversee schedules, technical requirements, and budgets, while he comes up with ideas that are as brilliant as they are impossible to execute within the given timeframe. Jiyong is used to people either trembling nervously in his presence or nodding in agreement before he even finishes a sentence. All he has to do is suggest changing the entire final sequence two hours before showtime, and his managers immediately start scrambling to make the impossible happen.

You’re the one who looks up from the documents and calmly says, “That can’t be changed today, Jiyong,” while a silence so deep settles around the table that you can hear the distant hum of the air conditioning from the next room. “The technicians wouldn't have enough time to run another safety inspection on the hydraulics. You can have the lights you want or the moving stage elements, but for safety reasons, you can’t have both without another inspection. So choose.”

Jiyong stares at you with his lips slightly parted for several long seconds. He isn’t used to disrespect, but he’s even less accustomed to someone treating him with complete ease. There’s no fear in your voice, and no attempt to humiliate him. There’s only reality, something everyone else always tries to sugarcoat before presenting it to him.

“Did you just tell me no?” he finally asks, the faintest hint of amusement appearing at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m telling you that the laws of physics aren’t going to make an exception just because it’s a BigBang concert,” you reply, lowering your eyes to the documents again. “So, which one is it going to be?”

Jiyong laughs quietly and chooses the original hydraulic platform over the additional lights. The meeting moves on, and by that afternoon, you’ve almost forgotten the entire exchange.

But he hasn’t, and that’s the day he starts noticing you. At first, it’s only small things that can easily be explained away as coincidences. Jiyong begins sitting across from you during meetings, even though he used to claim the seat closest to the screen. He appears in the production office more often, despite being able to get most of the information from his manager. Whenever someone makes a funny remark, his gaze automatically drifts toward you, as though watching your reaction and hearing your laughter matters more to him than the punchline itself.

Then the morning coffee starts. Every time Jiyong orders his iced Americano after arriving at the studio, a second cup appears on the corner of your desk a few minutes later. It’s exactly how you like yours, with a splash of oat milk and no sugar.

The first time, you assume someone mixed up the orders. The second time, you glance suspiciously toward the door. The third time, Jiyong stops by your desk and places the cup next to your laptop himself.

“I heard you yawning when you came in,” he remarks in a low, slightly raspy voice, leaning against the edge of your desk. He slips his hands into the pockets of his oversized hoodie, and his dark eyes settle on you with far too much attention for something as simple as handing you a coffee. “You were still here after ten last night... Drink it before the ice melts.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to order me a coffee every time you get one for yourself,” you reply, forcing yourself to maintain the same matter-of-fact tone you use with him during meetings.

“I don’t have to,” Jiyong agrees, amusement flickering in his eyes. “But I want to.”

“That’s exactly the part that concerns me a little...”

His smile widens. “Think of it as a bribe so you won’t be so hard on me at the next meeting.”

“Then you’re bribing the wrong person.”

“I know,” he says quietly, looking at you for a moment in a way that stirs a strange uneasiness inside you. Then he straightens up and walks into the main studio as though he hasn’t just said anything significant.

You should have stopped his attention right then. You could have refused the coffee, established firmer boundaries, and prevented his small gestures from becoming a regular part of your days. But Jiyong is never pushy. When you’re busy, he doesn’t demand your attention, when you tell him you don’t have time for his latest idea, he only smiles and leaves, saying he’ll come back later. He never tries to corner you or use his position against you, he simply keeps returning...

He remembers things you mention only in passing, brings you something to eat when meetings keep you from taking a lunch break, and when you lean against your desk after a long day and tiredly rub your forehead, his voice automatically softens as he talks to the others, as if he doesn’t want to disturb you. His interest isn’t loud, and that’s precisely why it gets so dangerously deep under your skin…

The worst part is his eyes... Jiyong doesn’t look at you the way men do when they expect their attention to be rewarded. There’s curiosity, admiration, and growing desire in his gaze, none of which he makes much effort to hide. It’s as though he’s fascinated by the simple fact that his name, his face, and his success don’t seem to affect you the way he’s used to. Meanwhile, you do everything you can to pretend that he doesn’t affect you at all.

︶ ྀི◟ ͜◞˚̣̣̣ ᪥ ˚̣̣̣◟ ͜◞ ྀི︶

On your birthday, an enormous bouquet of snow-white lilies sits in the middle of your desk. It’s too large, too expensive, and above all, too conspicuous for you to pretend it’s nothing more than an innocent birthday gesture from one colleague to another. Their heavy, sweet scent fills the entire office, and several people peer curiously through the open door as they pass.

A small card made from thick, textured paper is tucked between the flowers. Jiyong’s handwriting is slightly uneven, as though he wrote the message with a tired hand late at night after returning from the studio.

Happy birthday! I hope you’ll smile at me at least once today... J.

You hold the card between your fingers longer than necessary. Although his words warm you in a way you refuse to acknowledge, the sight of the enormous bouquet fills you with unease. It’s only a matter of time before someone figures out who sent it, and that is exactly what you’ve been trying to prevent ever since you first noticed Jiyong’s interest.

About an hour later, he appears in your office doorway. He rests one hand against the frame, a subtle, almost boyish smile on his face that does little to hide his anticipation. His gaze immediately drops to the flowers before returning to you.

“Do you like them?” he asks as he steps inside, pretending he’s simply passing by rather than having spent the past hour waiting for the first opportunity to see your reaction.

“They’re beautiful,” you answer honestly, and a bright light immediately appears in Jiyong’s eyes. His smile widens, only to vanish almost as quickly when you add, “But I can’t keep them.”

For several seconds, he only stares at you in confusion. Then his brows furrow slightly, and his smile disappears completely. “Why?”

“Because you’re an artist I work with,” you explain, carefully placing the card beside your keyboard. “This is too personal.”

Jiyong glances at the bouquet as though trying to understand what could possibly be so dangerous about it. “They’re just flowers...”

“They’re flowers from a man whose picture ends up online every time he gets close to a woman,” you remind him, briefly glancing toward the open door as one of the assistants walks past. “People notice everything you do...”

Jiyong slowly moves farther into your office and closes the door behind him. He doesn’t do it sharply or angrily, but the movement still feels far too intimate. “There aren’t any photographers in here,” he objects, stopping in front of your desk.

“But there are people.”

“Let them think whatever they want,” he says with a small shrug, as if other people’s opinions truly carry no weight.

“You can afford not to care what they think,” you say, nervously straightening several papers even though they’re already perfectly aligned. “I can’t.”

Jiyong falls completely silent for several seconds. His gaze slowly moves from your hands back to your face, and a strange mixture of disappointment and uncertainty appears in his eyes.

“So, you don’t like them?” he asks, his voice quieter than before.

“I said they’re beautiful, but—”

“—but you still don’t want them...” he finishes for you, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it.

You force yourself to nod. “No, I don’t.”

Jiyong slowly steps closer to the desk. His gaze falls on the card you placed beside your keyboard, and he stares at it in silence for several seconds. “What about the card?” he finally asks. “You can’t keep that either?”

The question sounds far more personal in his mouth than it should. The card isn’t expensive or conspicuous, no one would know who it came from if you hid it in a drawer. Still, you’re afraid that by accepting it, you would be accepting much more than a few handwritten words...

“You can take that too,” you answer after a moment’s hesitation, forcing yourself to hold his gaze so your response sounds as certain as possible, even though you aren’t certain at all.

For the first time, you see something resembling genuine hurt on Jiyong’s face. It isn’t loud or dramatic. His jaw simply tightens for a moment, his shoulders slump slightly, and pain flickers in his eyes before he can hide it from you.

Then he gives you a weak smile, reaches for the card, lifts it from the desk, and slowly slips it into his jeans pocket. His fingers linger on the edge of the paper for a moment, as though he doesn’t want to take it back.

“Happy birthday, Y/N. I hope you enjoy your day exactly the way you want to...” he adds quietly. Then he gathers the bouquet into his arms and leaves your office without another word.

Two hours later, you see the white lilies again. They no longer form one enormous, conspicuous bouquet. Jiyong has divided them among smaller vases that now sit on the desks of the assistants, receptionists, and cleaning staff. The women around them smile and admire their scent, unaware of who the flowers were originally meant for. You have no reason to keep thinking about it, and yet long after you return home, you still find yourself thinking about the card hidden in his pocket and the brief flash of pain in his eyes when you gave it back…

︶ ྀི◟ ͜◞˚̣̣̣ ᪥ ˚̣̣̣◟ ͜◞ ྀི︶

The greatest test comes two weeks before the tour begins. Jiyong catches you by the elevators late one evening, when most of the floor is already empty. You hold several folders against your chest while mentally going through the list of final changes that need to be completed before departure. Jiyong steps out of the studio in black jeans and a loose shirt, his hair disheveled after a full day of rehearsals, exhaustion softening some of his usual untouchability.

“Y/N,” he calls, quickening his pace to reach you before the elevator doors open. He doesn’t block your path or touch you, he only stops beside you and spends several seconds searching for the right words. “Come to dinner with me tonight.”

Your fingers tighten around the folders, but Jiyong continues before you can refuse him. “I know a small, private place in the hills above the city. No photographers, no one from the agency, and no work documents. Just dinner.”

His voice is calm, but there’s an uncertainty in his eyes that you’ve almost never seen in him. You know he isn’t inviting you because he’s bored. You know it every time he looks at you, and that is exactly why you need to protect yourself.

“I can’t,” you answer, lowering your eyes to the numbers above the elevator. “I still need to finish the budgets, and we have an early meeting tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t mean it has to be tonight,” Jiyong says quickly, a quiet urgency slipping into his voice. “It can be tomorrow, or after the concert, or whenever you want...”

The elevator doors open, but you don’t move. You can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes because you’re afraid you’ll see exactly what you’ve been running from for months.

“It isn’t about the time,” you finally admit, and a silence settles between you. When you eventually turn toward him, Jiyong’s expression is motionless, though his jaw tightens slightly.

“Then what is it about?”

“All of this…” you make a small gesture toward him, the building, and the entire world attached to his name. “I don’t want to be a part of all this...”

Pain appears in his eyes for the briefest moment. He hides it quickly, but not quickly enough to keep you from seeing it.

“I understand,” he says quietly, taking a step back. He suddenly looks more tired than he did only seconds ago, as though your answer has drained the last of his energy. “I’m sorry. I won’t ask again, and I won’t bother you.”

You enter the elevator, and as the doors close, Jiyong remains standing in the empty hallway with his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on the floor. You know you’re hurting him to protect yourself, but you don’t understand why it’s beginning to hurt you just as much...

︶ ྀི◟ ͜◞˚̣̣̣ ᪥ ˚̣̣̣◟ ͜◞ ྀི︶

Jiyong feels like he’s losing his mind... You’re everything he hasn’t been able to find in an industry full of calculation and hidden motives. You’re honest, kind, and completely genuine. You never try to win his attention, and that’s precisely why he wants to give you all the attention he has. He notices the patience with which you calm anxious dancers before they step onto the stage, how you bring warm tea to a sound engineer who has been sitting at the console for almost fifteen hours, and how sincerely you laugh with people who can just be themselves around you.

You’re warm with everyone else, but with Jiyong, you’re polite yet detached, as if an invisible boundary surrounds him and you refuse to even look past it, let alone cross it. Jiyong tries to respect that boundary. He stops bringing you coffee and looking for excuses to linger near your desk. During meetings, he speaks to you only about work, and once they end, he leaves before the urge to invite you somewhere you could be alone together rises inside him again...

︶ ྀི◟ ͜◞˚̣̣̣ ᪥ ˚̣̣̣◟ ͜◞ ྀི︶

Another painful moment comes one evening in Seoul, a week before the tour starts. Jiyong stands by a window on the fifth floor of the building, looking down at the street. He sees you leaving with several technicians. One of them holds an umbrella over your head against the pouring rain, while another playfully nudges your shoulder. You laugh, nudging him back, as you head together toward a casual restaurant on the corner.

Jiyong grips the handle of his mug so tightly that his knuckles turn white. It isn’t just the fact that you’re laughing with other men that hurts him, it’s the ease with which you walk beside them. You don’t need to look around to see whether anyone is watching, you don’t have to worry about your face appearing online or a casual dinner turning into a public scandal. Those men can offer you something Jiyong never could, not even with all his money and influence...

The luxury of anonymity

They can take you to a small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant, sit beside you at a plastic table, and make you laugh without security guards hovering around. They can become a seamless part of your life, while Jiyong feels as though his presence would turn your entire world upside down. His fame is a cage you refuse to be locked inside, and he has no idea how to convince you that he would protect you from all of it. That he would willingly give his life just to see you smile at him the way you would at any ordinary man, if you would only give him a chance...

︶ ྀི◟ ͜◞˚̣̣̣ ᪥ ˚̣̣̣◟ ͜◞ ྀི︶

The preparations for the tour gradually drain the last of Jiyong’s energy. He barely sleeps, constantly double-checking every detail of the show, suddenly needing to personally oversee everything he once delegated to others with complete ease. He throws himself into rehearsals with such intensity that it seems as though physical exhaustion is his only way to drown out his thoughts of you. On stage, he reviews camera angles, lighting, the movement of the hydraulic platforms, and every change in the choreography, while offstage, he maintains exactly as much distance from you as you asked for.

He stops bringing you coffee, stops appearing by your desk, and only speaks to you during meetings when it’s absolutely necessary. His behavior remains polite and professional, but the lightheartedness with which he once teased you is gone. Gone were the days when he would smile whenever you shot down one of his ideas, or keep you behind after a meeting with questions he already knew the answers to. He gives you exactly the distance you asked for. But now that you finally have it, you begin to realize how empty your days feel without him...

The tour kicks off with a massive wave of success. The first concert is completely sold out, fans keep screaming Jiyong’s name long after he leaves the stage, and once the show wraps up, the entire team heads to a private afterparty at a club near the hotel. The air is thick with laughter, clinking glasses, and loud music. The dancers embrace, production crew members raise their glasses to a successful launch, while you stand beside one of the high-top tables with a drink in your hand that you’ve barely touched. Your gaze keeps drifting back to the entrance because Jiyong hasn’t shown up, he hasn’t come to celebrate the triumph of opening night, and something about that feels wrong.

At first, you tell yourself he’s been delayed by a quick interview. Then you assume he’s changing clothes or dealing with something with his manager, but nearly an hour passes, and he is still nowhere to be seen. His absence begins to feel louder than all the music around you, and the uncomfortable pressure in your chest grows with every passing minute.

You take out your phone and open his contact. For several seconds, you only stare at his name on the screen before finally pressing the call button. The phone starts ringing, but after a few rings, the call suddenly cuts off. Jiyong has declined the call…

You remain standing with the phone pressed to your ear. He simply doesn’t want to speak to you. Perhaps he doesn’t want to speak to anyone at all... You should respect his decision. For months, you’ve made it clear that you don’t want his closeness, and now you have no right to expect him to answer his door just because you’ve finally begun to worry about the man you kept pushing away.

Still, only a few minutes later, you’re making your way through the crowd toward the exit. You don’t need to ask anyone where Jiyong is because you know his habits well enough to understand that he hasn’t returned to the agency or gone out in the city after the concert. When he’s exhausted and his own thoughts become too loud, he retreats into the deepest isolation he can find... Right now, that isolation is his suite on the top floor of the hotel. A luxurious emptiness where no one asks anything of him, an emptiness he has spent months trying to fill with your presence…

︶ ྀི◟ ͜◞˚̣̣̣ ᪥ ˚̣̣̣◟ ͜◞ ྀི︶

Twenty minutes later, you’re standing in front of the door to his suite, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm the frantic beating of your heart. No sound reaches you from the hallway, and there isn’t the slightest movement from behind the door. For a moment, you wonder whether Jiyong might be asleep, but then you remember the declined call and raise your hand to knock. When nothing happens, you knock again, louder this time.

“Jiyong?” you call, stepping closer to the door. “I know you’re in there...”

Nothing happens for a long moment. Then you hear muffled footsteps, and the door opens only a few inches. Jiyong remains in the narrow gap, one hand resting on the handle and the other braced against the frame. He’s wearing nothing but black sweatpants and an unbuttoned shirt. His hair is still damp from the shower, and he has washed all the makeup from his face. Without it, the dark circles under his eyes look even more pronounced.

When he sees you, his entire body visibly stiffens. “What are you doing here?” he asks in a hoarse, exhausted voice. His gaze drops to the phone you’re still holding before returning to your face. “I don’t want to talk to anyone, I want to be alone.”

“I know,” you answer quietly, even though his cold tone cuts deeper than it should. “But you weren’t at the afterparty. Can I come in?”

Jiyong is silent for several seconds. Exhaustion mixed with something resembling pain appears in his eyes, but he doesn’t close the door. Eventually, he steps back, silently allowing you inside. The suite is enormous, luxurious, and almost completely dark. Only one dim lamp glows in the corner, and the city at night stretches beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. An unopened bottle of water stands on the table, and Jiyong’s phone lies face down beside the sofa.

Jiyong walks past you and returns to the wide marble windowsill where he was likely sitting before you arrived. He draws one leg closer to his body, rests his forehead against the cold glass, and completely ignores you for several long seconds.

“I told you I wanted to be alone,” he repeats quietly without turning around. “You didn’t have to come here.”

“I wanted to know if you were okay...”

At your words, his shoulders tense slightly. He slowly lifts his head from the glass and looks at your reflection in the window.

“Why?” he asks, his voice sounding so empty that your stomach tightens. “Why would you care?”

“Because I care about you.”

Jiyong lets out a short, almost disbelieving laugh, but there’s nothing joyful about it. It sounds desperate. He slowly turns and slides down from the windowsill to stand on the floor.

“You care about me?” he repeats, and the first flicker of the emotions he’s been trying to hide appears in his eyes. “Is that why you won’t spend even a single hour with me unless there are work documents in front of us?”

“Jiyong...”

“No,” he interrupts, taking another step toward you. He doesn’t raise his voice, but his quiet desperation fills the room more powerfully than shouting ever could. “You came here, so finally tell me... Please.”

He stops several steps away from you. His hands are clenched at his sides as though he has to physically restrain himself from reaching for you.

“What am I supposed to tell you?” you ask in confusion, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“I saw you with them,” he continues, lowering his eyes for a moment. “That evening in Seoul. I saw you leaving with the technicians and going to the restaurant across the street. You were laughing with them. One of them held an umbrella over you so you wouldn’t get soaked, and you looked at them in a way you’ve never looked at me...”

“There wasn’t anyone else,” you say quickly, but Jiyong shakes his head.

“It isn’t just about them,” he says, and the pain in his voice burrows directly under your skin. “I know exactly why you can go out with them but not with me. They can walk down the street with you, sit in a casual restaurant, and have dinner without anyone noticing you. When you’re beside them, you don’t have to wonder whether someone is taking pictures or if your face will be all over the internet the next morning.”

He drags a hand across his face, and his voice begins to tremble.

“They can give you a normal life. The luxury of anonymity... And I know I’ll never be able to give you that, no matter how hard I try...”

He raises his eyes to yours. They’re glossy and bloodshot with exhaustion, but this time, there aren’t only suppressed tears in them. They hold all the desperation of a man who has spent months trying to understand why keeping as far away from him as possible seems like the safest choice for you.

“But why are you giving me the cold shoulder?” he asks, and his voice finally breaks. “Why can’t you stay in the same room with me for five minutes unless it’s about work? What am I doing wrong?”

He takes another step toward you, and you can feel his frustration and his need for an answer growing with every passing second.

“I’ve never tried to force you into anything, and I’ve respected everything you told me. I stopped bringing you coffee, stopped coming to your office, and never tried to invite you somewhere we could be alone together again... I tried to give you exactly what you wanted, but I still feel like my mere presence makes you uncomfortable.” The first tear slips down his cheek. “Do you really find me that hard to be around?”

“No,” you breathe immediately, and the force of your answer surprises both of you. “Jiyong, no. It isn’t like that at all...”

“Then what is it?” he asks desperately, his voice echoing off the high walls of the suite. He immediately quiets down, as though even that brief outburst has drained the last of his strength. “Because I don’t know what else to do, Y/N... Everyone tells me I can have anything I want. All I have to do is say the word...” He shakes his head, and another tear slides down his cheek. “But I don’t want just anything... I don’t want another award or another person who agrees with me because they’re too afraid to tell me the truth. I want you... I want to sit beside you even when you ignore me half the time... I want to bring you coffee and hear you tell me I bought it for nothing again. I want to be the reason you smile the way you smiled at them…at least once...”

Jiyong releases a trembling breath and looks directly into your eyes.

“I’ve spent years waiting for someone who could look at me and see a normal guy, and when I finally find you...you reject me. So, please tell me why. Tell me what’s so wrong with me, and I’ll never try to get close to you again.”

The sight of him tears through the last pieces of the defensive wall you’ve spent months building around yourself. The man who stood before tens of thousands of people only a few hours ago and appeared untouchable is now standing in front of you with tears on his face, begging for an explanation because he can’t understand that he was never the problem.

You slowly raise your hand and place your palm against his hot, damp cheek. Your thumb wipes away the tear under his eye, and Jiyong sharply draws in a breath at the first touch. His entire body stiffens, as though he’s afraid to move and discover that he only imagined the moment.

“You aren’t the problem,” you whisper, finally allowing him to see everything you’ve been trying to hide from him for so long. “It’s the opposite... I don’t keep my distance because I don’t want you. I keep my distance because I’m afraid of how badly I want you, and everything that could happen if I let you get closer to me...”

Jiyong stares at you with his lips slightly parted and trembling, as if he wants to speak but needs time to absorb every word and understand it.

“I’m afraid of your world,” you continue, gently brushing your fingers over his cheekbone. “I’m afraid of the tabloids, the fans, and the madness that follows you everywhere... I’m afraid I’ll fall in love with you and everything around you will crush me to dust...”

Jiyong remains completely still. You watch his exhausted mind slowly process the meaning of your words, and the pain in his eyes begins to transform into such profound relief that a quiet, broken sound escapes him. He lowers his head and rests his forehead against your shoulder. His arms hang helplessly at his sides for several seconds before slowly wrapping around your waist. You feel his tears soaking through the fabric of your blouse and the slight trembling of his body with every breath.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he whispers against your neck. “I’d do anything to protect you from that world,” he adds, holding you tighter, with even more desperation.

He lifts his head and looks into your eyes. There’s still vulnerability in his gaze, but cautious hope begins to rise beneath it, as though he still can’t believe that everything you’ve just told him is real. He doesn’t move any closer. He only continues holding you around the waist, afraid that any further movement might send you running again.

So this time, you move first. Your fingers tighten in the fabric of his open shirt, pulling him closer before you press your lips to his without any further hesitation. The first touch of your mouths is soft and almost uncertain. Jiyong returns your kiss carefully, as though he still expects you to push him away, but when you press closer and part your lips against his, a deep, trembling breath escapes his throat.

His kiss deepens, and his fingers sink into your hair. His other arm circles your waist firmly, pulling you so close that no space remains between your bodies. You can feel the frantic beat of his heart, the heat of his skin, and the growing hardness pressing against you through the fabric of his sweatpants.

Jiyong kisses you hungrily, but caution remains in every movement. His tongue slowly strokes yours as though he wants to savor every second of finally being allowed this close to you. When your first quiet moan slips into his mouth, his fingers tighten in your hair.

“You can still leave,” he breathes against your lips, pulling back only far enough to look into your eyes. His breath is hot and uneven, but beneath all his desire remains the fear that you came to him only out of pity. “I don’t want you to regret any of this in the morning...”

“Do you want me to leave?” you ask, slowly running your fingers over the exposed skin of his chest.

“No,” he answers immediately, his eyes closing under your touch. “God, no.”

“Then kiss me again...”

Jiyong doesn’t need any further encouragement. His mouth returns to yours, and this time, he slowly guides you toward the bed. He doesn’t stop kissing you even when the backs of your knees meet the mattress. He gently lowers you onto the soft white sheets and remains above you, supporting himself on his forearms so he doesn’t place his full weight on your body.

For several long seconds, he only looks at you. In the dim light of the lamp, his face is still marked by tears and exhaustion, but his eyes shine. His gaze slowly travels over your face, neck, and body, as though he’s trying to convince himself that the woman who rejected him for months is truly lying beneath him, her fingertips moving over his bare chest under his open shirt.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask quietly, because his stillness is becoming almost unbearable.

“I’m trying to understand whether this is real,” he admits, gently brushing his thumb over your lower lip. “I’ve imagined what it would be like if you ever stopped rejecting me, but it was never like this...”

“Like what?”

Jiyong lowers his head and kisses the sensitive spot under your ear. “This perfect.”

His lips slowly glide down your neck while his fingers begin undoing the buttons of your blouse. He doesn’t rush. Every newly exposed patch of skin is stroked first and then covered with a long, wet kiss, as though he’s trying to make up for all the months when he could only touch you with his eyes and in his imagination.

When the fabric slides off your shoulders, Jiyong stops again. His gaze drops to your lace bra, and his chest rises with a deep breath.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, and there’s no practiced flattery in his voice. There’s only pure, undisguised admiration in his voice.

“You haven’t even seen all of me yet,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light, but the final word breaks into a moan when his palm covers your breast for the first time.

“I’ll fix that,” he murmurs, slowly brushing his thumb over your nipple through the delicate lace. He watches your face as he repeats the movement. When your breath catches under his touch, a satisfied light appears in Jiyong’s eyes. He’s fascinated that you, the woman who has seemed so unreachable for months, react so sensitively to his touch and his closeness.

Jiyong unhooks your bra and slowly pulls the straps off your shoulders. The moment your breasts are bare before him, he lets out a quiet curse. He carefully cups them in his palms, brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples and spending several seconds simply watching the way your body tightens under his touch. Then he lowers his head and draws one nipple between his lips.

The moan that escapes you echoes through the quiet suite far louder than you intended. Jiyong closes his eyes at the sound, and his tongue begins slowly circling the sensitive peak. He sucks gently at first and then more firmly, while the fingers of his other hand tease your other breast.

“Jiyong...” you breathe, your fingers sinking into his hair.

The sound of his name from your lips visibly shakes him. He groans against your skin and presses his entire body against yours for a moment, as though that single sound has stripped away the last of his control.

“Say it again,” he murmurs hoarsely, moving his mouth to your other breast.

“Jiyong...”

This time, he lightly catches your nipple between his teeth, and your hips lift uncontrollably against his body. You can feel how hard he is, and the movement pulls a deep, muffled sound from his throat.

“I’ve wanted to hear the way my name sounds from your lips while I touch you for months,” he admits, his palm slowly sliding down your stomach toward the fastening of your pants. “I had no idea it would do this to me...”

You help him pull his shirt off his shoulders and run your fingers over his smooth, heated skin. Beneath your palms, you feel tense muscles and the violent pounding of his heart. Jiyong lowers himself for another kiss while undoing your pants and slowly pulling them down over your hips.

When you’re left wearing nothing but thin panties, his hand pauses on your thigh. His long fingers travel upward along the inside, only to stop just before the place where you need him most. He watches every change in your expression, his own breathing becoming increasingly uneven.

“You spent so long pushing me away...” he whispers, brushing his fingertips over the damp fabric of your panties. “And you’re already this wet for me...”

Heat floods your cheeks, but this time, you don’t look away from him. You lift your hips and press yourself more firmly into his palm. Jiyong draws in a sharp breath at the movement.

“I thought you liked it when I didn’t give you everything right away.”

Jiyong lowers his head and presses his lips to the inside of your thigh. “I liked it much more before I knew what it was like to have you...”

His fingers catch the edge of your panties and slowly pull them down. When you’re completely naked before him, Jiyong goes still for a moment. His gaze burns across you, but there’s nothing in it that makes you want to cover yourself. He looks at you with such deep admiration and desire that you feel like the only woman in the world.

He spreads your thighs and kneels between them. The first touch of his tongue is slow. It glides across your clit so lightly that your entire body tenses in anticipation of the next movement. Jiyong grips your thighs more firmly and repeats the motion with greater pressure. You inhale loudly, your hips rising slightly off the mattress, and Jiyong moans directly against you.

His tongue alternates between slow strokes and firm circles around your clit. Every moan encourages him, and every restless movement of your hips awakens another wave of focused desire inside him, as though nothing matters more than discovering exactly how to touch you until your carefully guarded control finally falls apart.

When he carefully slides one finger inside you, you gasp sharply. His finger begins moving slowly, and after several moments, he adds a second. He stretches you gently but deeply, while his tongue continues teasing your clit. The combination of his mouth and long fingers drives you out of your mind far more quickly than you want to admit.

“Ji,” you moan, your nails digging into his skin.

He responds with a deep hum that you feel directly against your body. His fingers curl slightly inside you, touching a place that scatters the final remnants of thought behind your eyes. The tension low in your stomach tightens sharply. Jiyong recognizes how close you are from the way your thighs tighten around his shoulders. He quickens the movement of his tongue but keeps his fingers working inside you with the same deep, precise rhythm.

“Come for me,” he breathes against you. “I want to feel you come on my tongue.”

His words finally break you. Your orgasm tears through you with sudden force, your entire body tightening as a loud moan escapes your throat. Jiyong holds you firmly, his mouth still pressed against your clit while you clench around his fingers in intense waves. He doesn’t stop until the final tremors dissolve into oversensitivity, and a weak tug on his hair forces him to lift his head.

When he leans over you again, his lips are glistening and his gaze is almost black. His chest rises sharply with each rapid breath, and his hard cock strains against the fabric of his sweatpants so visibly that the sight makes your lower stomach tighten again.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers, lowering his head to kiss you. You taste yourself on his tongue, and the realization sends another rush of heat through your body.

“Like what?” you ask against his lips, your hands moving to the drawstring of his sweatpants.

Jiyong closes his eyes when your palm brushes over the hardness hidden beneath the fabric. “Like you finally want me as much as I want you...”

You untie the cord and slide your hand beneath his underwear. The moment your fingers wrap around his hard cock, Jiyong exhales sharply and rests his forehead against your shoulder.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans as you slowly stroke him from the base to the tip.

His body tightens with every movement, and his hips press subtly into your hand. Jiyong, who always appears perfectly controlled around everyone else, falls apart under your touch just as easily as you did under his mouth moments ago...

You spread the pre-cum over his tip with your thumb and tighten your grip slightly. Jiyong crushes a quiet curse, his fingers closing around your wrist, but he doesn’t stop you. He only guides your hand more slowly along his entire length, as though showing you exactly what feels good.

“Did you imagine this too?” you ask, watching the expression of pure pleasure appear across his face.

“Far too often,” he admits, his voice catching with your next movement. “But in my imagination, you never tortured me like this.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought.”

Jiyong opens his eyes and looks at you with hunger. Then he suddenly pulls your hand away, pinning it to the mattress beside your head.

“If you keep going, I’ll come before I’m inside you...” he breathes hoarsely, his hips pressing more firmly between your thighs. “And I don’t want that because I’ve waited too long for this.”

Before you can say anything, he presses his lips to yours, and this kiss is deeper, slower, and impossibly tender. He doesn’t rush, even though you can feel how urgently he presses against you. He touches you as if he wants to memorize every inch of your body, every shiver, and every moan he manages to draw from your lips.

He settles between your open thighs and slowly runs one hand along your side. His palm comes to rest on your waist, his fingers gently digging into your skin as he pulls you closer until the tip of his cock brushes against your wet entrance. Both of you exhale deeply at the first contact.

Then he slowly begins to push inside you. The first slide inside is deep but careful. Jiyong moves slowly, inch by inch, his lips pressed to your temple while his hot breath slides over your skin. You feel every movement, every small tremor of his body, and the way his fingers tighten around your waist as your body tightens around him.

When he finally slides all the way inside, both of you release a trembling breath. Jiyong remains completely still for several seconds. He rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes tightly, as though the sensation of your body around him has struck him more powerfully than he expected. A quiet, broken sound catches in his chest, and his palms grip you more firmly.

“God,” he breathes directly against your lips. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You slowly run your fingers over his back and draw him even closer. That tiny movement is enough to release something inside him. Jiyong pulls almost completely out before sliding into you again with a slow, deep thrust that draws a loud moan from your throat.

His half-closed eyes immediately open, and he watches your face with complete fascination, as though nothing matters more than seeing how you react to him. Every thrust that follows is slow and long. He doesn’t move inside you mindlessly. He savors every inch, every clench of your body, and the way you arch under him. He kisses your mouth, cheeks, and neck in turn, while his hips maintain the same deep rhythm. One arm holds you firmly around the waist, as though he can’t bear even the smallest distance between your bodies, while his other hand moves over your thigh, hip, and breasts.

His touch isn’t hungry just for your body. It’s hungry for everything you have denied him for months. Your gaze, which no longer shifts away from him. Your hands, digging into his back. Your voice, whispering his name through the silence of the suite in a way he could only dream about until tonight...

“Jiyong,” you breathe when he changes the angle of his thrusts, and the next movement hits deep inside you, precisely where his fingers were touching you moments ago. The sound of his name makes his body shudder. He lowers his head and buries his face in your neck as his rhythm loses some of its original restraint for the first time.

“Say it again,” he whispers against your skin, his voice breaking under the weight of his own pleasure. “Please.”

“Jiyong...”

His hips move harder, a deep groan leaving his throat as his lips press against the sensitive place under your ear. Every thrust becomes more urgent than the last, but each one still holds a tenderness that surprises you. Jiyong holds you tightly, almost desperately, as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear the moment he can no longer feel you under his hands.

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him even deeper. Jiyong groans loudly at the movement and stills inside you for a moment, buried as far as he can go. His fingers dig into your hip, and his entire body trembles above you.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he breathes, lifting his head so he can look into your eyes. “For months, you looked at me as if you didn’t feel anything...” He slowly pulls out and thrusts deeply into you again. And now I can feel how perfectly you fit around me...”

His words send a sharp wave of heat through your entire body. You close your fingers in his hair and pull him into a deep kiss, your uneven moans blending together. Jiyong’s tongue meets yours again as the movements of his hips gradually quicken, and the headboard begins to softly knock against the wall.

Jiyong’s initial caution slowly breaks apart under the weight of his pleasure and the fact that you’re finally no longer rejecting him. His thrusts grow deeper and more urgent, but he never stops kissing or touching you, as though he needs to feel your entire body all at once.

One of his hands slips between your bodies. His fingers find your clit and begin caressing it in slow circles that gradually match the rhythm of his hips. Every movement deepens the pressure tightening low in your stomach again.

Jiyong immediately realizes how close you are and slows down only enough to keep every thrust long and deep, while his fingers continue teasing your clit. He watches your face, and his own expression dissolves into pure pleasure each time you shiver under him.

You open your eyes and meet his gaze. The tension low in your stomach tightens sharply, and your body clenches around him. Your orgasm moves through you in powerful, deep waves that make you arch against his body and cry out his name.

Jiyong groans at the sound, and his rhythm immediately falls apart. He thrusts deeply into you several more times while your body grips him tightly, then presses himself against you as closely as he can. His arms close around you, his face buries itself against your neck, and with one final deep thrust, his entire body goes rigid. You feel him trembling over you as he comes.

For several long seconds, neither of you moves. Jiyong remains lying over you, still supporting some of his weight on his forearms but refusing to put any distance between you. His hot breath slides over your neck, and his lips quietly brush your damp skin, as though he needs to keep kissing you even when he has no strength left for anything else.

When his body slowly begins to relax, he raises his head and looks at you. There are still traces of exhaustion and earlier tears in his eyes, but all the desperation that filled them when you arrived has disappeared, replaced by euphoria and profound relief.

Jiyong brushes the damp hair away from your forehead and then lowers his head to kiss you. It’s a long press of your lips that holds everything that has changed between you tonight. Then he lies beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms. He covers your naked bodies with the blanket, wraps one arm securely around your waist, and buries his face in your hair.

︶ ྀི◟ ͜◞˚̣̣̣ ᪥ ˚̣̣̣◟ ͜◞ ྀི︶

Morning light begins to cut through the darkness beyond the suite’s floor-to-ceiling windows. The room no longer feels as cold as it did to Jiyong before you arrived. The warmth of your night together remains in the air, along with your mingled scent and a silence that, for the first time in months, doesn’t feel heavy.

You open your eyes, and the first thing you see is Jiyong. He’s lying on his side with one arm draped over your waist, watching you without moving. His face is peaceful in the morning light, free of makeup and all the layers of the public persona he shows the world. He looks like nothing more than a tired man who’s afraid you’ll wake up and immediately regret everything that happened between you...

“How long have you been staring at me?” you ask sleepily, and Jiyong smiles faintly.

“I don’t know,” he answers without looking away from your face for even a second. “I didn’t want to fall asleep and wake up to find you gone...” There’s such open uncertainty in his voice that your throat tightens.

Still, your rational thoughts begin to return with the morning light. Jiyong is still a man whose face is known by millions, and you’re still just the project coordinator for the tour. Outside are photographers, fans, and countless people who would create their own story from a single photograph of the two of you…

You carefully lift his arm off your waist and sit up. You pull the sheet against your chest and look at the clothes scattered across the floor.

Jiyong watches you, and you see a flash of immediate, silent panic in his eyes at the movement. He’s afraid that last night was nothing more than the result of pity and overwhelming emotion for you. He sits up beside you. His hair is tousled, and in the morning light, he looks more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen him. For several seconds, he only looks at you before slowly extending one hand. He places it on the sheet between you, palm facing upward.

He doesn’t demand anything. He only offers you a choice and leaves his heart resting in that open palm while he waits to see whether you’ll get up and leave or decide to stay...

“I know you’re afraid,” he whispers, his long fingers trembling slightly with nerves. “I saw it every time you stepped away from me. And you’re right... My world is loud, chaotic, and sometimes completely insane. I can’t promise there will never be people around us or that you won’t have to give things up, just as I have.” For a moment, he lowers his eyes to his open palm.

“Just let me show you that you don’t have to be afraid when you’re beside me. I’m not saying it will be easy, but... I’m only asking for a single chance.”

You look at his open palm. Your fear of the future hasn’t disappeared. The risk of being burned is still enormous. Those ordinary dinners with the technicians may never feel the same again, and the boundary between your professional and personal life has just changed irreversibly. Your defensive wall no longer exists. It has just fallen apart between you. It has been destroyed by desire, by a night filled with honesty, and by a man who could easily use the power of his name to corner you, but instead sits before you with an open palm and waits for your decision.

You slowly raise your hand and place your palm in his. Jiyong’s eyes light up with such pure happiness that you can’t help but smile. He immediately closes his hand around yours, firmly but gently, and pulls you back into his arms. He buries his face against your neck, and you feel him smiling sincerely against your skin for the first time in months.

“I’m still afraid, and I’m not promising you anything...” you warn him, even as you wrap your own arms around his shoulders.

“I know,” he murmurs, kissing you under your ear. “But it’s more than I’ve had these past few months... so much more.”

💚 Taglist (Jiyong): @ldydeath @strawinyourdrink @chocomintlatey @babyzzzzz @cchapssaltteok @lolzworld @jiyongsbaby88 @kikokikokikokikokiko @jiyongsraven @jiyongiie @finallyremembered @honeebee1318 @hex-girls-stuff @bunnygirlgonewild @headinthecloudswithpeanutbutter @kitty-catttttss @aemrsy @yourphobiavi @thanosspills @imthefreakyg @troyjnis @megs-orbittt @lilshu65 @sanniix33 @missleezylou @gdtabibaby @stacyyyystami @thatxxdarling @tttabitop @luvkwonji @minatttozaki @akivision

[whysosrs88]

Softy - Kwon Jiyong x Reader

• reader will be referred too as y/n !

• PLOT : Reader is best friends with CL, never really spending time with Jiyong, but reader knows of him. Jiyong is different than G-Dragon. When Chaerin hosts a small party in the studio for the success of BIGBANGS 0.TO.10 tour as a surprise, what is the worst that can happen?

• warnings: sexual content, alcohol usage, swearing, slight dirty talk, not sure of any others, y/n usage?

When Chaerin had messaged you, it was simple, just a 'Hey y/n, dress up, be at the dance studio in YG tonight!! Small get together!' You didn't even question it. You guys loved hanging out, and you would often if she wasnt busy with music, or you werent busy with dance. You had moved from Singapore, here too Korea. You and your parents had moved, wanting a change of scenery once you graduated high school. Since you were 18 you had been here, of course you could have stayed back, but you wanted so dearly too make sure your parents would be okay. Over the years, you had learned alot of Korean, and it is what you spoke all the time, unless with your parents. You lived next door too them, having bought attached homes. It was the best your parents could afford moving here that would give you the space, and them the space. You didnt mind it. You didnt have a high income.. you hoped it would change if you would just officially get signed for a dance position.

Fast forward a few hours, you were getting ready. Chaerin didnt give much details.. other than that she was throwing a small congrats get together for the boys of BIGBANG, since they just got off a tour that did so well. You didnt dress too fancy.. Just a skirt, landing a little on your upper thigh, aswell as a tshirt, plain, but a pretty thin one, it slightly hung off your shoulder. You left your hair down, securing a hair tie on your wrist in case you needed it, and put just some light makeup on.

By the time you had arrived, it was just Chaerin and a few others. There was low music from the speakers in the room. This was last minute Chaerin had said while speaking too you, said she just planned it so she hadnt rented some place different out. Plus, this was.. private. Eventually, the guys—Jiyong, Seunghyun, Youngbae, and Daesung, had shown up, being told by Chaerin that she wanted too see them for opinions on a track. They all kind of paused, seeing the few people, aswell as the alcohol.. wine, sitting on one of the previously moved tables now at the side of the room.

Y/n had never officially met Jiyong. The other 3, yes. But always told Jiyong would be in the studio. Jiyong was busy, he was in a meeting. So.. seeing him felt.. different. He was.. handsome. Faded green hair tucked under a hat. Loose sweats on his frame, and a nice fitting long sleeve, probably from thinking this would just be them helping Chaerin out. His features were soft.. none of this was giving off superstar G-Dragon.. more so.. soft energy.

"You guys made it!" Chaerin said, smiling as she greeted them all. "I didnt actually need help.. I just decided.. before YG decides you guys need too work your asses off more, you can chill for a night." She said, gesturing too the table with the obvious liquor on it. "Glad you could make it." She had added. The guys seemed pretty chill for the next 20 minutes that had passed. Good thing the dance studios were bigger than your usual, everyone could kind of sprawl out comfortably.

Music got turned up, wine and different alcoholic beverages were being passed around. You couldnt help but feel eyes on you, though. Which, caused you too look around a little before spotting him. Jiyong. Curious eyes. Maybe even eyeing the liquor in your glass. There was a pause of nothing, before he made his way over too you.

"Y/n, right?" He asked, a small tilt of his head.

"Yes, thats me." You smiled, giving a small bow.

He gave you a little once over, eyes curious, assessing you, maybe.

"Im Jiyong. Though, you know that."

"I do." You said, a small laugh leaving you.

Up close, his features looked soft but sharp. Like something straight out of a magazine. Sure he was in some, but the non-makeup and edited version of him looked it. You were cut out of your thoughts when he spoke up again, "you are.. very beautiful.." he said, a boyish smile on his lips. Was.. Kwon Jiyong.. being shy? You smiled.

"Thankyou. That is very sweet of you.. you are, quite pretty if I do say so myself.." you said, smiling softly. Jiyong’s cheeks warmed a bit at that. Pretty. He had been called pretty before, sure, but a pretty girl.. like you, calling him pretty made a gear in his head spin.

You and Jiyong got into conversation, easily. You both had moved and sat against the mirrors on the other side of the studio, away from the others who were talking across the room.

"Your telling me, you stayed in the studio for 2 whole days?" You asked, a little shocked. You wouldn't survive that. Jiyong nodded. "Well.. technically 2 nights, 3 days.. if you wanna be exact." He chuckled, the sound was warm, ringing through your ears. You had heard Jiyong was a hard worker and could get stubborn about leaving the studio while he was constantly in a creative spiral. You let out a gentle laugh, "I couldnt ever do that.. I am sure i would loose my head." You said, sipping your drink, the sweetness of it felt heavenly on your tongue.

"It is stressful.. sometimes. But.. I enjoy it most of the time.. though I wish I had better ways of coping with that stress." He said, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

"What do you do now too relieve it?" You asked, tilting your head just a bit.

"Smoke. Lots of smoking." He responded. "Cigarettes, of course."

You watched him for a moment, speaking before you could even properly think about how this would sound, "maybe you need too just get laid every once in a while. Im sure it'd help the stress." Once you heard it slip from your lips, you quickly covered your mouth a bit, opening your mouth back up too apologize for such a dirty thing being said.

On the other hand, Jiyong thought.. maybe, just maybe, you were right. He didnt think it was weird when you said it, it actually shocked him a little. You didnt look like a dirty type, but what did he know. "Dont worry about it." He chuckled. Getting laid sounded.. heavenly. Especially now. He had been busy.. since probably 2015.. when MADE dropped. "Maybe your right." He added, thinking for a moment. "However, for someone like me.. that isnt easy.. so that isnt in the cards for me." He finished.

You watched him for a second. You could get where he was coming from. After such a long time of being in a spotlight, there is some paranoia.. fans who watch everything.. People who will find things out faster than a detective could. You watched as he sipped down the rest of the drink that was in his glass, setting it down too the side, between the two of you. You realized the tattoos on his fingers, the rings also on his fingers. He had nice hands.

"I like your rings." You said.

Jiyong glanced over, glancing down too the rings on his fingers. "Thankyou.." he said, wiggling his fingers a little too show them off.

You werent sure if it was the alcohol or what, but you couldnt help but think about what his fingers would feel like. Stop, dont think like that, You told yourself. That wasnt appropriate. You leaned your head back on the wall a bit before you noticed Jiyong stand, you looked up at him, curious as too where he was going. "Follow me." Is all he said before walking out of the dance studio room. No one looked over, still deep in conversation. A feeling of nerves lit up in you and you got up, downing the rest of your drink before also walking out too join him.

Outside the room, he stood waiting for you. It didnt take long for him too motion for you too follow him, you did.

He took you too one of the recording studios, holding the door open. You were confused.. that was until you heard the lock of a door and immediately soon after felt his lips on yours. Not gentle. Not gentle as he seemed just talking too you not even 5 minutes ago. It felt needy. You immediately kissed him back. His lips were soft on yours, almost intoxicating in a way the liquor hadnt reached you tonight.

As minutes of a makeout passed by, his hands were on your waist, your arms had wrapped around his neck. He had backed you up until you felt something hard behind you. The hard table the mixing board was on, something you knew he had known very well. He pulled back too look at you for a moment, a look of hope in his eyes. Hope that you were okay with what he was doing, and hope he hadnt pushed too far. By the way you licked your lips, looking at him.. he knew it was okay.

He took off his hat, placing it ontop of your head before he hoisted you up too sit on the table, moving your legs apart with his knee so he could stand between them. The gesture alone had butterflies fluttering low in your tummy. His lips had found their way too your neck, gently nipping at it. When his lips brushed over your sensitive spot, you moved a hand up, putting it in his hair, which earned a soft hum from him.

You didn't realize in the current moment just how much he was kissing your neck as the minutes passed. Sucking, biting, licking. You were sure your neck was marked. One of his hands slid up your shirt, pulling his head back too look at you for permission. The need in his eyes almost made you let out a hum. You nodded and he slid your shirt off over your head. Next too go was your bra.

You glanced down too his crotch. An obvious problem under the fabric of his sweats and boxers. Reaching your hand out, you palmed him, immediately a breath leaving him.

"So hard already.. we have only been kissing.." you said, tilting your head in teasing manner.

"Dont act like your not soaked right now.." he said.

His tone took you by surprise. This was a different side than what you saw in the other room, it made you want too squeeze your thighs together, which wouldnt be easy with him standing between them.

You wanted too test him. "Im not.. I dont know what your talking about.." you said, lifting your chin, looking at him better from under the brim of his hat.

He smirked, pulling you closer too the edge of the table, a hand sliding up your thigh too hook into your panties, tugging them down off of you, a small gasp leaving you at the sudden air. He slid his hand up further, running a finger through your wet folds, a satisfied smile on his face, as your cheeks warmed and your head tilted back a bit at the feeling.

"I thought you weren't wet?" He asked, tilting his head as he moved his hand so he could press his thumb too your clit, one small circular motion.

You opened your mouth too speak, but instead a soft moan left your lips. "Jiyong—"

He smiled, his eyes casting downward too your pussy. He could see how wet you are, and if you listened, you could hear the sound of his thumb moving over your wetness.

You looked down, pulling your skirt up. His hands. Fuck. They were cold compared too how warm you felt. The contrast felt great. You weren't the type too beg.. but, the way he was touching you had your body reacting in ways you didn't feel before. "Please..Jiyong." you said.

Something in his eyes sparkled when you said please, along with his name. You reached out, tugging on his sweats a little bit. With proper permission, you pushed them down. The sight of him had you nearly drooling, instinctively moving your hips closer too the edge of the table, reaching out and carefully grabbing his dick too rub it on your entrance.

Jiyong let out a broken breath, grabbing your hand quickly. He grabbed both your wrists, holding them. "What do you want from me?" He asked, tilting his head, gently moving his hips forward to he would barely push on your entrance.

"Dont make me say it.. just-.. please, Ji." You said, a small pout on your lips.

"Ah-ah.. what do you want? Tell me."

You watched him for a moment. "I want you too fuck me.. fuck me until my legs are weak." You said, tone more desperate than you'd like it too sound.

"Good girl." He cooed, letting go of your wrists and placing his hands on your hips, slowly sliding into you.

He stretched you so nicely. It hurt but felt amazing all at once, overwhelming your senses. Your hands went up too his hair, one holding onto his shoulder. "Fuck." You mumbled out. You felt yourself already clenching around him.

He moaned out a bit, you were so tight around him. Your fingers in his hair was so hot, it turned him on even more. It didnt take long for him too start thrusting, once he did, a string of moans left your mouth, his own soft breaths leaving him.

Over the time, his thrusts grew hard and fast, and you felt like you were barely holding on. The wet sounds coming from you turned you on even more. His tip was constantly hitting that spot deep inside you. His facial expressions and noises kept pushing you closer too the edge. He pulled you into a deep kiss, which you gladly returned.

The kiss was messy, but more gentle than his thrusts. The kiss was your last straw, you were so close too coming undone. "J-Jiyong.. your gonna make me cum—" you said, clenching around him as if your pussy didnt want too let go.

"Cum on my cock.. now, baby." He said, his grip on your hips tightening.

As soon as he said you could, you came. It came in rough waves of pleasure, a very loud moan leaving you, that could surely be heard by someone in the next room, but surely no one else was in the room next door. As he kept thrusting into you, chasing his own release, you tugged his hair just a little, earning a moan from him.

"Cum inside me, Jiyong.. I want you too fill me up with all that stress you carry.. can you do that for me, handsome?" You said, looking up at him.

Your words, and with one final thrust, he came deep inside you, tucking his head into your neck as a deep, low groan left him. The sensation of him filling you, made you moan out loud. He was so warm. You felt every bit of it. Both of your bodies were shaking from your orgasms. You moved your arms too wrap around his neck, pressing gentle kisses too the side of his face as you caught your breath.

He had lifted his head too look at you. Looking at you as if you just held the moon for him. He leaned in and pressed a kiss too your lips, which you gladly returned. You didnt expect for him too thrust slowly again, as if pushing his mess into you further. You were so sensitive.. clearly so was he since his breathing shook almost the same as yours.

You pulled back, eyes lidded and your lips brushing his. You were gonna say how you guys have been gone, you should both go back. But, the way he was looking into your eyes and the slow, gentle thrusts he was doing was making it hard for you too form any thought.

"Jiyong," you said, a small whine leaving you. You could feel every bit of him. "We-..we should probably head—..mm.. back." You said. His gaze made you feel things.

"I dont want too pull out yet.. please.. lets stay a little longer, y/n.." he said, the tone of his voice shocking you. It sounded like he was begging now. How could you say no? His eyes half lidded like he was drunk on you, his voice shaky.

You guys spent about.. an hour in there. You moaned eachothers names so beautifully. You drew a couple more orgasms from eachother before Jiyong had cleaned you both up, and now you guys were propped on the studio couch, dressed, you laying on Jiyongs chest.

"Y/n.. can I ask you something?"

"Yeah.. of course."

"Will you go too dinner with me?.."

You lifted your head a bit, looking at him. "Are you asking me on a date, Jiyong?"

His cheeks warmed a bit. "...yeah, will you?" He asked.

You nodded, pressing a gentle kiss too his jaw. "Of course i will."

After minutes of laying there, giggling at small jokes from on another, exchanging phone numbers, you realized, he didnt seem as tense.. neither did you. Maybe it was the release.. maybe it was your company. But you didnt know that for him it was how quickly he felt comfortable around you. He immediately felt drawn to you, you would later learn that.. someday.

When you guys made your way back too the room with the others, your legs felt wobbly. Before you entered, Jiyong stopped you. Pulling you in gently too kiss you. You kissed him back. When you pulled away, you took his hand, taking your hair tie, sliding it onto his wrist, pushing it under his sleeve. He marked you, you made your own mark. No shame. When you guys entered, all eyes were on you both. You immediately perked up a bit.

Chaerin smirked, glancing between you two. "Welcome back. We had to turn the music up louder." She said, making your cheeks heat up, and Jiyong gave a shy smile.

[orbitinghao]

MY FIC RECS ¡! ❞

FICS THAT I'VE LOVED AND PROBABLY RE-READ A FEW TIMES!

ALL AUTHORS TAGGED ARE HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!

LAST UPDATED: MARCH 18TH 2026

⎯⎯ SEVENTEEN !

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL - 최승철

LOVE DRUNK BY @pochaccoups seungcheol is drunk and clingy.

SCARS LEAVE A BEAUTIFUL TRACE BY @starlightxsvt an arranged marriage with the man the entire land is afraid of. the man with a crimson eye. they call him the grim reaper. cold, ruthless, unforgiving. yet you are drawn to him, curious to see the man hiding behind the cold, hard exterior. and the man behind is hauntingly beautiful but your forever with him is not promised.

DIPPED BY @haologram your summers since university have always been spent spinning in odd circles around town, pockets overflowing with cash - until your clerical 9-5 lays you off for 'spring cleaning.' luckily, you find a summer job fast: tending to the 'adults only' section of your local waterpark, and being at choi seungcheol's beck and call

GALIPETTE! BY @jeonghantis after the tragic end of your relationship, it's no surprise just how much you grew to hate choi seungcheol, the reason for it all. but still, he was the best fuck you ever had.

YOUR BODY'S A TEMPLE BY @p0ckykiss everyone knows choi seungcheol, captain of the football team, has been trying to get into your (the head cheerleader's) pants for the entire semester. you make him wait, and wait, and wait. until he doesn't.

NEXT TO YOU BY @woncheolisms you think you’re good at keeping your crush on your roommate hidden. you can handle it. but then you wake up to him in bed next to you, arms wrapped around you, and you have no idea how to deal with your suppressed feelings anymore.

BONAMANA BY @makeitworse where you and jeonghan find out you’ve been unknowingly sharing the same guy, and get back at him by fucking each other.

YOON JEONGHAN - 윤정한

MORE THAN ONCE BY @ woncheolisms there’s a guy on campus who girls go to for stress relief. sleazy bastard, but he obviously knows what he’s doing. when everything becomes too stressful for you, you decide you wanna do the same. just a one time thing. meaningless sex. you never banked on him getting attached to you.

WATER BY @onlymingyus being friends with benefits with jeonghan has never been what you thought it would but taking a trip to paris with him and the rest of your friends while expecting to keep it a secret… that’s something completely different.

CURTAIN CALL BY @liuhsng yoon jeonghan is a simple man—one who finds happiness in the smallest things, like your laughter, your sleepy voice in the morning, or the way you fit perfectly in his arms. but sometimes, even simplicity has its limits. because what begins as quiet yearning turns into something he can’t control, every teasing glance and lingering touch blurring the line between affection and desire.

JUDGE FROM HELL BY @epelletart they said money is the solution, while you naively believed it wasn’t the answer to everything. yet you found yourself in despair as your father’s fate fell in the hands of the town’s so-called “impartial” judge. you begged him to see reason, swearing your father was innocent. but there was another deception lurking beneath the surface.

LOVE CONFESSION BY @ woncheolisms the only effective way to move on from yoon jeonghan is to date someone else. but it doesn’t work, because sooner or later, all roads will lead back to him.

SWEETEST SALVATION BY @ starlightxsvt he has lured your brother into his hellish cult. it is up to you to save him—only if you can save yourself first. because jeonghan has his eyes on you, and he will get you. and break you, eventually.

BONAMANA BY @ makeitworse where you and jeonghan find out you’ve been unknowingly sharing the same guy, and get back at him by fucking each other.

LIQUORICE BY @gyuhao5 you knew whatever you and jeonghan were doing wasn’t real—not really. but a part of you had started to wonder. you could feel that same warmth you’d come to resent starting to bloom, and it scared you.

CALL ME BACK BY @ haologram you and yoon jeonghan are just friends. just friends who work together and watch midnight screenings of old films, just old friends who share a sofa seat in the back of a cinema. just friends who kiss, who run away...just friends.

HONG JISOO - 홍지수

BEGGING FOR THE NEXT BY @100vern no one needs to know what you and joshua get up to except the two of you.

BLURRING THE LINES BY @amourcheol you think you know everything about your best friend, dashing bachelor joshua hong. when you stumble upon his suggestive literature from his recent travels, however, reading even an extract is enough to make you question everything. unsure of your newfound feelings, you turn to your confidante, unaware of just how much knowledge—and experience—he has to offer.

DISTRACTED BY @eomayas reader is literally just feral for joshua

ALL THE PETTY SCENES & ALL THE PRETTY THINGS BY @starlightkyeom where your best friend organizes a weekend away for all your single friends on valentine's and you have to deal with his very annoying roommate

BUILD THIS DREAM TOGETHER (SERIES) BY @joshujin as his race engineer, you’ve spent five amazing years guiding mclaren superstar, joshua hong, to victory after victory. but in that fifth year, you learn something horrifying about yourself: you’ve fallen in love with your driver. you’re not willing to let your heart get in the way of everything you’ve worked for, so you do the one thing you know is guaranteed to keep both of your careers safe: you leave. two years later, joshua inadvertently comes crashing back into your life with an announcement that rocks the F1 world. before you know it, you’re on his doorstep with an offer you know he won’t be able to refuse, ready to guide him back to where he needs to be—one last time.

TOUGH LOVE? BY @mvnscloud in a world that expected silence, joshua gave his son softness.

WEN JUNHUI - 文俊辉

COMPANY BENEFITS BY @studioeisa you can’t really call wen junhui your ex-boyfriend. it was more of a friends with benefits situation—except you only got ghosted, while he got an internship at your recommendation. people always say to not bite the hand that feeds you; it looks like jun didn’t get the memo.

KWON SOONYOUNG - 권순영

ABOUT YOU BY @ haologram things between you and soonyoung never really end. sometimes you're up all night on the phone, sometimes you make it past the message plans you've been putting off and end up in his bed. It's really up to you, soonyoung has never been anything but about you.

ADORE U BY @ joshujin after a career drought full of dead end positions, you finally land a job you can be proud to include on your resume—prestigious company, room for growth, and most importantly, a salary that will allow you and your boyfriend, soonyoung, to breathe a little easier. what you don’t expect is the discrimination and vitriol you’re met with on the job. as office life gets harder and harder for you, soonyoung finds it increasingly impossible to sit back and watch you repeatedly get hurt like this. so he dusts off a mask he never thought he’d use again, and when your colleagues start dropping dead one by one… well, that’s none of his business.

PLAYING WITH FIRE BY @ starlightkyeom soonyoung doesn't do relationships. or strings. or repeats all that often, honestly. he's one of the best drivers on the circuit and he doesn't need to. the one exception? you, his biggest rival's on-and-off partner. he's always your first call when your relationship is splashed across the headlines again and he never seems to care

STARGIRL BY @ makeitworse inviting soonyoung to film was meant to stay a casual arrangement, that is until he breaks the singular condition… to not fall for you

JEON WONWOO - 전원우

SWEETEST THING BY @sailorsoons for the first halloween in years, you and wonwoo are able to enjoy it together without the kids. when you feel a little nervous about your costume, wonwoo is determined to show you that you’ve always been the sweetest thing. 

HONEYMOON AVENUE BY @gyuswhore you and wonwoo have said your i dos in front of the entire world, and now it's time to uphold them when it's just you and him.

RECOVER BY @ woncheolisms it’s not just wonwoo, but everyone in his life who knows that he is the best driver for aston martin, and has been for years. this season is his first real chance to take the championship home. but everything goes terribly wrong when a race goes awry and he fractures his collarbone, and there is no one he hates more than the orthopedic surgeon who tells him he can’t race.

SLACKING OFF BY @goldenhourology being technologically averse, yet a complete control freak to your core, you tend to annoy senior IT specialist, jeon wonwoo, to no end. but after an apology brings you two closer together, wonwoo finds himself reaching out to you more often than not. on and off slack. despite what you two had originally perceived, you find yourself thrown into feelings that neither of you could've ever prepared for.

LEE SEOKMIN - 이석민

RED WINE NIGHTS BY @hannieoftheyear what's the worst time to hook up with your best friend and change your relationship forever? probably the night before he gets on a plane and flies far away to become a world famous star.

FIVE MORE MINUTES BY @lxvemaze when your best friend, hansol, invites you to his birthday party, you end up reuniting with the man you thought was your soulmate.

PROM NIGHT BY @ haologram ten years after being crowned prom queen and thinking you'd left your small town in your rearview, you tuck your tail between your legs and come right back home...only to find out that the boy that took you to prom has been waiting patiently for your return.

FOREVER AND ALWAYS BY @slut4kwon being married to seokmin feels like proof that love only grows heavier with time. even after several years, he still looks at you like he's stunned you exist. still stumbles over his words when you hold his gaze for too long. still needs you in that ways words will never be enough for.

KIM MINGYU - 김민규

SWEETNESS BY @ haologram you're alone in the woods following the tail-end of a very bad live-action rendition of the walking dead and you're in jeans of all things: but welcome to kim mingyu's early post-apocalyptic guide to falling in love. in three days, no less!

RIBS BY @ haologram kim mingyu is a dear friend. a dear friend that spends nights in your arms, said nights set aflame with the tick tick tick of your gas stove when he makes you dinner, and searing kisses when he lays you down in your bed. yes, kim mingyu is a dear friend...and you wish he were more.

BLOOM FOR ME BY @sanakiras even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.

SAVE THE DATE BY @ goldenhourology 5 weddings in one year. 5 dates you saved for you and your boyfriend to attend — before he cheated. and now, you had to force your best friend, vernon, to go with you. but after losing a bet, mingyu agrees to take vernon’s place and be your date. this wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go, but you guess you could settle going with your only one-night-stand from college.

CLARITY BY @ hannieoftheyear mingyu doesn't want to pay you any mind. to him, you're just another girl that'll get her heart broken by his dumb best friend. why would he care, right? he shouldn't care about the crying sounds he hears from his bedroom when his friend stands you up for the girl he's actually in love with. and he shouldn't be getting close to you. he shouldn't dread the day his friend decides to end things with you and bring someone else home. he shouldn't be wishing to have met you first.

CRÉME DE LA CRÉME BY @ haologram your mother is very proud of you and the man you call your best friend. this being said, she tends to rope you into things you're not exactly an expert at, which begs the question: how long until you go running to mingyu, and how long until you decide you're not going to let him go?

LOST IN THE WEST BY @ starlightkyeom where your best friend pretends to be your boyfriend for the holidays so you can avoid more nagging from your mother. except your whole family thought you were already dating

XU MINGHAO - 徐明浩

GOOD ROOMMATES DON'T BY @bitchlessdino xu minghao had been the most ethereal being you've ever laid your eyes on to the point being unable of functioning like a normal person, but now you're roommates. only time will tell when you lose your mind keeping your hands to yourself, so there needed to be a list of things you don't do if you wanted to be a good roommate.

THE XU MINGHAO DILEMMA BY @shuaflix like most film students, you find yourself experiencing the worst creative block of your life when you're tasked to film a documentary for your final project. enter: your old childhood best friend turned stranger, xu minghao—an (incredibly handsome) ex-dancer and barista who just might be the spark of inspiration you need to make the best film of your academic career. on the flip side, minghao needs this film to win him the scholarship that lets him dance again. despite all, your circumstances don't stop your old, repressed feelings for minghao from resurfacing.

LOST IN TRANSLATION BY @ studioeisa translator/interpreter!reader, idiots in love, yearning!!!, hurt/comfort, confessions. alcohol consumption

THROUGH THE GLASS BY @ woncheolisms

VISIONS OF GIDEON BY @belovedgyu every summer that you spend in cooper's falls comes with a promise of healing. be it the peculiar classes taught by an eclectic teacher or the fat sandwiches from your friend's shop. this year, however, you wonder if the clean breeze and the soothing calm of your home away from home would be able to mend it when you show up with a scared, fractured heart up your sleeve... wanting nothing more than to just bury yourself in the place and the person that are the only sure things remaining in your life.

PROOF BY @wonwootattoo your boyfriend learns no one knows he's dating you and feels guilty about it.

BOO SEUNGKWAN - 부승관

PITCH A DATE BY @ hannieoftheyear days are always spent the same for you: serving smoothies to sweaty teens after their practice, getting your ears used to the constant murmur, and watching the baseball coach from afar. you thought you were doing a good job at hiding your little workplace crush, until two girls that get benched for the season begin scheming to set you two up. but there's no way overly flirty seungkwan could actually be interested.

CHWE HANSOL - 최한솔

ON THE CLOCK BY @ sailorsoons modern problems call for modern solutions, including naming a random stranger in the book store as your boyfriend to avoid an embarrassing encounter with your ex. the problem? the stranger is vernon and he’s not supposed to be a stranger at all - he’s your coworker, and now everyone at the office - including your ex - thinks you’re dating. 

EVERYTHING WE ARE BY @ haologram following an abrupt break-up that has lasted a year, you find yourself standing in front of the very apartment where your past lover sleeps, and where you once used to call home. two birthdays, several holidays and one sullen, teary 'could've been' anniversary later — you're ready to face him and ask the unexpected.

INTO THE DEPTHS BY @luvrung 8 months after the world fell a chance encounter across the clearing flipped everything you’ve come to know upside down. for the second time since the end.

EGO DEATH AT REVERB RECORDS BY @ goldenhourology when vernon is hired as your new manager at one of the most long-standing record stores in nyc, he ruins the perfectly crafted bubble you curated. he's pretentious, doesn't respect that sometimes you need to work on your thesis during shifts, and did I mention he has an earring? he's annoying and your worst nightmare, but when you decide to take him up on his offer to show you new music, you slowly realize that he might just become your favorite person.

LEE CHAN - 이찬

HOW DID WE END UP HERE BY @vernonverse chan has had a massive crush on you since the day he first saw you. he never thought he’d have a chance with you, since you were so obviously out of his league. but it turns out life has a way of writing the right things with crooked lines.

BETWEEN ME AND YOU BY @ haologram everything you've ever done, chan has been by your side - either egging you on or talking you off the ledge. after a rough year of studying, failed relationships and having chan be the insistent angel on your shoulder, the holidays roll around - and let's just say you're not too happy about it.

NOT SO LOUD BY @daechwitatamic you've been in love with lee chan for almost two years, despite his rejection seven months ago. when you're impossibly coupled up on a friendcation, you're determined not to make it everyone else's problem. of course, you weren't expecting to have to room with him, and you certainly weren't expecting only one bed

⎯⎯ ENHYPEN !

JAKE SIM - 제이크 심

ACTS OF SERVICE BY @scorpieuns completely drunk, fed up and bored with the dramatics of casual relationships and the continuous disappointment of hookups—you and your best friend decide the best way to solve this dilemma is being fuck buddies. but that was just a joke…right?

LOYAL PUPPY BY @junsfriend ever since your boyfriend jake transformed from his nerdy high-school self into the university's star football player, you've become everything you thought you’d never be. jealous. anxious. clingy. but jake really doesn't mind your newfound possessiveness. he encourages it, even. so when he defies expectations again to star in a musical with a stunning costar, you spiral. now, the “lowkey” relationship you once insisted on gets jeopardized under the weight of your own insecurities.

PARK SUNGHOON - 박성훈

SECRET DESIRES BY @ p0ckykiss park sunghoon is a respected, well loved professor and husband. all his morals seem to go out the window when he catches himself yearning for a certain student with big eyes and a contagious smile.

INCH BY INCH BY @intromortal you have a boyfriend gifted with a pornstar cock, but he refuses to use it on you, too scared he'll end up hurting you. so your best shot is to devise a plan to get him to crumble, and even if things don't unfold quite as expected, what matters is the result anyway... right?

NISHIMURA RIKI - 西村 力

YES, PROFESSOR BY @kissued an upcoming anatomy final leaves you teetering on the edge of exhaustion, buried under stress and self-doubt. but when professor nishimura offers a steady, guiding hand, the pressure starts to lift — and suddenly, the lines between mentorship and something more begin to blur.

⎯⎯ TOMORROW X TOGETHER !

HUENING KAI - 휴닝카이

DUALITY BY @bambiihee after a fight between you and your roommate escalates to you getting kicked out of your dorm, your best friend and his frat invite you to stay with them at their frat house. you really shouldn't have said yes, but you can't ever say no to hueningkai, your closest friend since you were small. you've always seen him as nothing but a brother, but all it takes is one conversation and one rumor to change everything you've ever thought about your sweet, shy, innocent best friend. tensions rise as you uncover the only secret of his he's ever hid from you, revealing a side of huening you didn't know existed. is there any way to get out of this without ruining everything?

CLOSET CONFESSIONS BY @ bambiihee office au, coworker!kai, smut, fluff, coworkers to lovers

⎯⎯ BIGBANG !

KWON JIYONG - 권지용

TOO BAD BY @ makeitworse f!idol!reader, tension, age gap, suggestive

MIDNIGHT RENDEZVOUS BY @ikwon1c you and kwon jiyong are just two restless YG trainees who can’t seem to stay out of trouble or away from each other. you both know it’s risky, but sneaking out feels easier than ignoring the pull between you.

CHOI SEUNGHYUN - 최승현

HIDDEN BY @lexalith when you land an internship on the dearmoon project, you’re just trying to keep your head down, do your job, and survive under the watchful eye of your mother—the mission’s lead director. falling for someone is not part of the plan. especially not choi seunghyun. but that doesn’t stop him from wanting you. and it doesn’t stop you from letting him. you thought you could handle the consequences—you didn’t expect to lose everything else along the way. (PT 2)

LAST DANCE BY @wcnderlnds turns out you both want different things but seunghyun has to give you the perfect goodbye

THIS LIST WILL GROW AS I READ ! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WOULD LIKE YOUR WORK(S) TO BE REMOVED <3

@ orbitinghao 2025

[h0lographicsun]

Day 7 - Mirror sex

Kang Daesung x fem!reader

Warnings: none? Besides smut obv

A/n - this is SO short and late I'm sorry😭 but I had to get some fillings done so I'm a little out of it rn💔

The air buzzes with excitement as BIGBANG exits the stage for the final show of their tour in Japan. You and Daesung have been dating for about 5 months now and everything was great. There was only one issue… he had never had sex with you. You tried to initiate it every now and then but it never worked.

Dae walks off the stage elegantly, looking to his left you catch his eye and wave. He waltzes over to you, a smirk painted on his face. “Hey” he mutters. “You look good,” you reply, making Dae blush. “I could say the same thing about you” he whispers. You look up at him, eyes wide and doe-like. “Follow me.

Daesung walks off, you trailing close behind him. He takes you to his dressing room, it was decorated beautifully with the bigbang logo and a vanity with circular light bulbs surrounding the mirror. “You were amazing tonight” you whisper. “Tonight isn’t over” he speaks lowly. You tilt your head, confused until he takes you into his arms and starts pressing gentle, slow kisses to your neck. Dae grasps your small waist in his larger hands, pulling you closer “I’m ready” he breathes. Your eyes widen, excited “we really don’t have to if you don’t wa-” he cuts you off with a deep and passion-filled kiss, arching your back into him. “Band over. Look in the mirror” he growls.

You do as told, making eye contact with yourself in the glowing mirror. Dae pulls down your sweatpants, leaving you in just underwear. You hear the jingling of his belt buckle being undone before you feel his hard length pressing against your ass. Dae lets out a low groan “should’ve done this a lot sooner..” he hisses. He pulls down his boxers slowly, his cock springing out.

He gives it a few gentle strokes, groaning softly before pulling your panties to the side and slowly thrusting in. You gasp softly as he starts to roll his hips. “Yeah..look in the mirror as I fuck you” he groans. You look up into the mirror, watching yourself get fucked

[lovemepartly]

sports car ✩ namgyu

warnings: 18+, smut. also i was too lazy to proofread

a/n: i’m going to be posting more squid game works right now in light of season 3 (plus i am working on a fix-it fic for s3...!) i promise i see all of your bigbang requests and i’m working on them!!

also, feel free to request which character you wanna see next for this!

« pretty blue streetlights and my hazel eyes ⋆⭒˚.⋆ »

╰┈┈➤ sports car, tate mcrae

in-ho version | thanos version | dae-ho version

namgyu, who somehow always convinces you to crawl into the backseat with him. namgyu’s car is like his safe haven. he got his drivers license as soon as he could, so ever since he was a teenager, he’d drive out to parking lots late at night and just sit alone and think. as he got older, it became his go-to hookup spot. it was just a shitty car he bought back in the day, one of the older models, but he still loved it.

namgyu will pull over the car into a deserted parking lot on a side street, the only illumination being the glow of the moon and the singular streetlight. you once told him it was creepy, and he merely laughed at that, murmuring, “maybe that’s the point.” before continuing to press kisses down your jaw. 

namgyu never has patience, although he tries. he’ll kiss your mouth, moving to the corners of your lips, before trailing his kisses down your jaw and neck. but the second a noise escapes you, whether it be a small moan or soft gasp, it’s over for him. 

he’s shifting his position so that you straddle his lap, his mouth messily moving over your neck, sucking marks into your skin. his hands roam over your back, under your shirt, somehow skillfully taking off your bra in one smooth movement. 

he lifts you up from his lap a bit, his hands strong as he grips your hips. you move to take off your bottoms, discarding your underwear on the floor messily. he doesn’t mind. he lifts your shirt up, just enough to expose your breasts. his mouth moves to suck on your nipples and bite at the soft flesh around them. he just wants you all marked, all his.

namgyu will hurriedly unbutton his pants, pulling his boxers down, just enough for his already hard cock to spring free. he’ll help you sink down carefully onto him, hands gripping your waist.

once he’s fully inside you, he’ll let you do your thing for a while. his hands only barely hold onto your waist as you roll your hips over his, almost as if he’s grounding himself with your touch. his eyes flutter shut, a small, soft breath escaping his lips, because you just feel so damn good. 

he really does try to be patient. but after only a couple of moments, he’s grabbing your hips tightly, enough to leave red bruises the next morning, and begins to thrust up into you. every movement has you clinging onto his shirt tightly, small whimpers escaping your lips. he somehow knows exactly how to hit the right spot every time. 

“fuck, baby, let me cum inside you,” he’ll rasp after some minutes, his hair already sticking to his forehead; he’s barely holding back. a small nod or soft breath of “yes” is enough for him. 

you can feel him the moment he fills you up almost instantly. he lets out a soft grunt, letting you rest your head on his chest. when he pulls out, he’ll murmur, “shit, baby, look at the mess we made.”

you can only offer a small laugh in response, too fucked out to talk, as he helps you back into your clothes, pressing a soft kiss to your temple when he’s done. he helps you back in the passenger seat, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he drives. you really do love namgyu’s car. 

[flymetothexmoon]

Hair Dye + Rings

Warning: Swearing. Smoking. Flirty Thanos x Reader. Sexual Innuendos.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Señorita, I need you. Call me."

A long time ago, you remember reading an old quote that said that whenever someone fools you once, it is on them; but when they fool you twice, the actions after the fact are then solely on you.

You rolled over to your side, still holding your phone, as you replayed the message, his voice deep and desperate; you could tell he was tired. Tired from what you did not know or ask. It was not very often that Thanos asked you for favors, let alone would let it slip that he needed someone, but something in you was nagging at you to return the call.

To be honest if you had actually gotten the call in time you were not sure if you would have answered or not, but now that he took the time to leave you a voicemail, to let you know he neeeded you, the tables have turned.

Slowly, you managed to press the "Return Call" button and brought the phone's speaker to your ear. You expected the phone to ring more than once, or even go to his voicemail, but it only rang once before his voice was soon in your ears once again.

His voice was louder than it was on the voicemail, more urgent. Maybe he really did need you after all.

"My house. Now. And stop by the store. My goddamn vape ran out. Blueberry Crush." You could feel yourself nodding, even though he was not able to see you.

The inside of your cheek was met with your teeth as you tugged on the sensitive skin, desperately trying to think as to why he would need you, but still feeling the surge of electricity run through as to what and why you needed to be there so urgently.

Thanos did not live very far from you, but the line at the local convenience store in your shared neighborhood was busier than usual. You could feel your feet rocking and back and fourth as you nervously rubbed your thumb along the front of the box the vape came in. Finally, it was your turn, and you smiled warmly at the cashier, knowning that was something they did not get very often.

"This all?" Your eyes scanned the area in front of you, feeling like it was your first time here. You eventually found a little display that had mood rings on display. A simple piece plastic that was suppose to wrap around your finger and tell you what you were feeling, but in reality probably adjusted and changed due to body temperature.

Quickly, you grabbed one out of the secured slot and placed it next to the vape, thinking it would not hurt to humor your inner child. You wished the cashier a good day, and slid the mood ring on your right middle finger as you walked out of the store, making your way to where Thanos was.

It had not even been two minutes that you left the store before you could feel your phone buzzing in your hand, the vibration making you jump slightly.

"Hello?"

"Señorita, where the hell are you? I fucking need you." You smiled softly to yourself, reminding him you needed to make a stop and you would be there soon. The reflection of your mood ring caught your attention as you hung up the phone.

Pink: Nuturing, Loving, Grateful.

Before long, you were standing in front of Thanos' door, your free hand that was not holding the box with his vape, was about to knock on his door before the door had quickly opened, nearly knocking you to your feet as you could feel someone's hands on your wrist as they quickly brought you inside, the door closing behind you.

"Thank God you are here,"

Your chest rose a few times as you tried to reduce the minor anxiety attack that took over.

Gray: Unsettled, Confused, Stresssed.

The colors were indeed changing with your mood, and you finally felt yourself relax as Thanos stood before you. His purple hair was a mess... literally, and you could see tiny little specs of purple on his face and even on the oversized shirt he was wearing.

Suddenly, it dawned on you why he needed you.

"Thanos... What have you done?"

His hands were on your wrist again, you could feel one of his fingers gliding against yours, one of his rings that he wore gently scraping against the cheap plastic on the mood ring you just bought. A low gasp escaped your lips, making them part slightly, as you felt him grab the boxed vape from your grasp, the sound of the box being ripped open and thrown on the floor following after, and the sound of the crackle from the vape mechanics and the smell of blueberry filling your lungs as you watched him take a hit, his pupils dialating almost instantly from the relief it gave him.

"I don't know what the fuck you are talking about..." Another hit.

Slowly, you felt your own eyes get a little hazy as you stepped closer to him, his height towering above you as you poked him on the chest, obviously pointing at the purple stains all over his top of choice.

"Your shirt says otherwise. Were you trying to do dye your own hair?"

Thanos fell quiet, and as a reflex, he ran his hand through his hair, getting even more of the purple dye all over his hand, all over the rings he wore.

"Fuck. Did I make that much of a mess?"

You smiled. He definitely did, and you could already see the spots on his head where he missed.

Lilac: Calming, Soothing, Pleasant.

"Just a little here and there. Let me take care of you..." you did not mean for the last part to come out like an invitation, but if definitely sounded like one, causing Thanos' eyes to light up momentarily, his lips curving into a tight smirk when your hand grabbed his hand and guided him up the stairs.

"Fiesty. So goddamn to eager to get me all alone. You must have other plans."

In that moment you were so glad you were moving fast so he did not see the blush that heated your cheeks.

Thanos had plopped down in a chair he brought, his eyes watching you as you mixed together the remaining of his signature purple dye, the gloves you wearing made slight crinkle when you finished stirring together the dye and bleach combo. Your nostrils were filled with the smell of blueberry again as you could tell Thanos was taking another hit of his vape, pleased with the purchase you made for him.

"You look so fucking sexy with those gloves on... Like you are going to dominate me or sum" You could feel your cheeks burning again as you stepped closer to him, your fingers gently massaging into his scalp and the feeling of his fingers hands gripping into your waist to steady you– clearly getting purple dye on your pants, but in the moment you did not care.

Sky Blue: Soothing, Relaxing, Focused.

Thanos was watching you, and you both knew it. He was not only watching you to learn how to do his own hair better, but he was also watching you because he liked watching you; the way your fingers worked his scalp and how your hips were constantly moving, despite the grip he had on them to try and keep you in one place, and more importantly how every time you had to get the top pieces of his hair, you had to stand on your tippy toes and real close to him, your tits practically begging his eyes to look at them.

Finally, your body relaxed and you admired your finished product, Thanos' hair was perfect.

You had stepped back to admire him, his hands that were gripping your hips were released and you involuntarily shivered at the lack of contact, but you remained proud of your work. You stepped aside to let him admire himself in the mirror, his hands running through his hair again, the smirk creeping across his lips once again, indicating how happy he was.

"Señorita I look so good. You did so fucking good for me. My own personal stylist." A low giggle escaped your vocal cords as you smiled wide, admiring him yourself, bringing your own hand to his hair, the plastic of the mood ring glittering against the lights in his bathroom.

Red: Passion, Power, Energy.

"It does look really good. You look really good," Thanos' hands snaked around your waist, moving your body so you were now sitting on the cold countertop in his bathroom, your eyes fluttering at the sudden contact as you watched his hands; the grip he recently had around your hips was once again present as you felt the metal on his hand dig into you, piercing your skin like a tattoo.

"S'all thanks to you, baby"

His words came out so damn smooth that for a moment, you believed that you were actually his baby. The piercing in your hip came to a hault as one hand kept you steady and the other was lifting your hand up, a small crinkle of Thanos' nose made you giggle again as he admired your hand, looking at the mood ring on your finger.

"What's this, baby? A silly little mood ring?"

Your mouth opened slightly, trying to think of a smart answer to reply with when you felt Thanos' body shift so he was even closer to you, his heartbeat practically thumping against yours as you swallowed hard, looking down at your hand and then back up to him, your lips just barely touching his...

"It's orange. Orange could suggest that I am craving excitement, and I am feeling confident and affectionate. Want to play a game and figure out what I am?"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Authors Note: this was a fun one to write. I had been feeling a little uninspired after part three of "Text Messages + Photos" but I finally wrote up at least 10 different titles that I want to eventually write up for Thanos and Seunghyun. Enjoy !!

[ldydeath]

Body | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: You push Jiyong a little too far and he has to teach you a lesson.  Word Count: 1.8k Warnings 18+, MDNI, oral (f receiving), car sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, light bondage Authors Note: Heyo, so it only took 7 months for a return to Suit Series. Thank you white suit Jiyong, I love you. You can check out the rest of the series here and as always, you don’t need to read the rest of them to understand this one. The title is a song off the new ATEEZ album and I highly recommend listening to it. 🖤

You watched from the sofa as Jiyong tied and untied and tied his tie. His hands fidgeted as he looked into the mirror with a determined focus. His eyes flicked to you briefly and he smirked at your expression. 

“You’ve got that look, Jagi.” 

“What look?” He turned around still playing with the tie and you let out a sigh, walking over to him. 

“You know, the look.” You tighten the tie with a smirk, your face inches from his.

“The one where I want to take full advantage of you? Yeah, that’s just my face, Ji.” You leaned in, placing a small kiss to his cheek. “Nice tie, definitely wouldn’t mind being tied up later.” He stared at you, mouth open in disbelief. 

“The president is out there!” He stuttered, going back to the mirror. 

“Oh I know. Seem to remember him being out there a couple other times too.” Jiyong’s eyes snapped up to look at you through the mirror, wide eyed.

“Jagiya, please.” 

“Have it your way. I’m off to find my seat.” You leaned in with a small smirk, placing a perfect lip mark on his neck, just above his shirt. 

The door clicked shut behind you and Jiyong relaxed as he sat down, going over his notes for his speech. His phone dinged and he put his cards down to look at the message. 

Can’t wait to run my hands through your hair later, Oppa. 

Followed by a meme saying: I want to sit on your lap and feel you get hard underneath me. 

Jagi. 

Jiyong. 

The president is out there.

I’m aware, I’m looking at the back of his head right now. Not nearly as cute as you. 

Why do you always do this when he’s here?

Because you always look so hot when in his company? Like you’re trying to court him. 

Do I not look hot all the time? And I’m not trying to court him.

Eh. 7 or 8 most days. Solid 10 for the president though. 

You’re going to pay for that comment.

Oh I’m counting on it. 

You smile to yourself as you put your phone away, the lights fading down and you sit back in your seat. Jiyong takes the stage, his hair freshly colored in a brown shade, an attempt to hide the yellow underneath and you can’t help the way your breath catches in your throat. He always looks good, but there’s something about the way he walks out that has you coming undone. You spot it then, the way he smirks at you before addressing the crowd and your thighs rub together as your eyes lock on his for the briefest second. 

The way Jiyong could command any crowd, whether it was a group of fans or a bunch of very powerful people has always been extremely attractive to you. You’d started off as his manager, your relationship growing and changing over the many years you’d been by his side. Watching him comeback like he’d never left, and dominating the world? It was everything. So yeah, you liked to have your fun and congratulate him in your own ways. And despite the way you’d been teasing him before he went on stage, you were actually trying to wait until you got home to have your real fun with him. 

You were waiting for him backstage when the event was over, sitting against the couch cushions with a wide smile on your face. He gave you a warning glance as the team followed him inside and you sat up straight. 

“You did great, Ji.” You smiled as you stood to greet him. 

He pulled you in for a hug. One that was a beat too long to be professional and you closed your eyes, breathing in his scent before pulling back. 

“The car leaves in an hour for the station. I’ll see you then.” You smiled, nodded to the rest of his team before leaning back in. “Don’t forget what I said about that tie.” You whispered against his ear, leaning back to look him in the eye before leaving the room. 

This was not how you’d envisioned this night going, but Jiyong had been out of the spotlight since Coachella and you knew how these things went. Photos needed to be taken, he needed to make his rounds. You could still properly congratulate him once you were back in Seoul. 

You slid into the car, pulled out your phone and started checking into what everyone was saying. You were on your second rewatch of his opening comments when the door opened. You looked up as Jiyong slid in, jacket undone, tie untied and your jaw dropped. 

“You still have fifty minutes before we have to leave.” 

“Yeah, I tried a dessert and then decided I’d rather have my real dessert now.” He leaned in closer, the door closing behind him a devilish grin on his face. “I believe you said something about being tied up.”

“Here?” Your breath hitched as he removed the tie from his, his eyes never leaning yours.

“If you think I’m waiting until we’re home to tame you, you’re mistaken.” 

He moves over you in one swift movement, capturing your wrists with one hand, he ties the tie around them carefully, before attaching them to the back of the headrest. A smirk playing on his lips as he sheds off his jacket, his lips never leaving yours. 

“Tame me? I’m hardly in need of being tamed.” 

“The texts you sent me just to get a rise out of me say otherwise, Jagi.” 

His hand moves to trace the outline of your face, his breath hot on your skin. His hands trail lower, teasing you above the fabric of your dress, his fingers barely touching you as you wither beneath him. 

“Ji.” His eyes snapping to yours with a smirk on his lips.

“I think you talked enough earlier, Jagiya. Don’t you?”

He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling the handkerchief out.  Your eyes widen as the realization hits and you He hovers over you, stuffing the fabric into your mouth and tying it behind your neck softly. His eyes never leave yours as he leans in, his lips trailing across your jawline. 

“Much better.”

 He whispers in your ear, his teeth biting your earlobe gently before his lips move back down your neck, your jaw, towards your throat. You mumble into the fabric and he lets out a low chuckle. 

“You’re such a shit, still trying to talk when I have you all tied up? I guess I’ll just have to shut you up then.” 

He looks up at you briefly before continuing his assault, his hands reach behind you, unzipping your dress, a strap falling off your shoulder. His lips mark every inch of your skin as he slides the dress off you slowly. 

His hand traced the edge of your panties before sliding them off, in one swift movement. He lowered himself, his eyes on yours, his breath hot against your skin and you wiggled against the tie. 

“I have an hour Jagi, we do this my way.” He smirked before his finger slid through your folds. You arch against his touch and he smirks, lowering your hips back down. 

“What’s the rush? We have an hour.”

 He removes his finger, popping into his mouth, licking the taste of you off his finger. He lets out a low growl, his eyes meeting yours.

“You always taste so good, Jagi.” He breathes before his head lowers, between your thighs. 

His tongue licks a strip from your folds to your clit, circling it in slow, careful movements like he has all the time in the world. Your cries are muffled by the handkerchief and your hands wrestle against the seatbelt. His eyes meet you through hooded lashes as his tongue moves in an agonizingly slow rhythm against your clit. 

He slides a finger into you, stretching you before adding a second, his fingers pumping in and out of you slowly, his tongue circling you lazily and you gasp with each touch. Your head falls back against your arms as the waves of your orgasm wash over you. Your walls pulsing against his fingers. 

He groans, his tongue moving quicker, his fingers curling just right, helping you through your first orgasm. You’re still withering beneath him as he begins to move faster. Setting a relentless pace as he works you to a second orgasm and then a third. Your breath catches in your throat as you finally free yourself from the handkerchief. 

“Ji please.” You pant and his eyes snap towards you. 

“Please, what, Jagi?” 

“I need you.” You whisper, your arms pulling at the tie. 

He moves, undoing his pants and hovering over you, he unties you gently, the handkerchief falling to your neck. His lips capture yours roughly and you moan at the taste of yourself on his lips, your tongue massaging against his as he sinks into you. 

“God, Jagi you’re so tight.” He groans as he moves against you. 

Your hands claw at his back, your moans filling the silence of the car with each thrust. It didn’t take long before your fourth orgasm washes over you. He follows after you with one final deep thrust, his release hot inside of you as your hands move to his hair, tangling in the ends as you shake beneath him. 

“Fuck. Ji.” You breathe your head falling into his neck. 

A knock at the window breaks you both from the spell and Jiyong freezes, his grip on your waist tight as he shifts. 

“Yeah?” 

“We leave in five.” Jaeho’s voice booms from outside the window.

“We’ll be ready.” Jaeho knocks again, leaving you both alone in the silence of the car. 

He groans as his head hits the back of the seat, sliding into his pants. He carefully helps you back into your dress as you sit up against the seat. 

The front door opens just as you finish smoothing out your hair and you lean on Jiyong’s shoulder as the car takes off to the station. 

“Rest up, Jagi. I’m not finished with you yet.” He whispers in your ear as his arm moves around your shoulder, holding you still with a smirk. 

You look up at him with a sly smile, leaning into place a small, sweet kiss to his cheek. “Don’t change when we get on that train. I still haven’t had my fun yet.” You whisper. 

He lets out a laugh, leaning against the backseat and pulls you in closer, his lips brushing your hair.  “We’ll see who’s in charge when we get home, Jagi.”

tag list: @wcnderlnds @finallyremembered @berfgrimm @ttturnitup, @breakmeoff @tulentiy @petersasteria @mashtatosworld @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @1950schick @bettelaboure @allthoughtsmindfull @sylviavf @lilshu65 @lolzworld @evasmlp @bellaglover18 @pomdorio @ccrowrobot @kpopdramajenlisa @hex-girls-stuff @ivush @jiraiyathehokage @itsmyobsession @jiyongsbaby88

[wcnderlnds]

the bigbang (and friends) october writing challenge 🎃

Marissa ( @ldydeath ) and I are back at it again with our BigBang writing challenge! We did one back in April and it was so much fun and we decided since then we wanted to do one for the month of October so here we are!

This time, we've expanded it so you can write for anything you like! Whether that be BigBang, Squid Game, Stray Kids, Ateez -- any and all bands/people you'd like to write, we'd love to see it!

Each day a fic will be posted by a different writer for the whole month – the number of the prompt is the date which you’ll post your fic. They can be fluff, angst, smut – whatever your heart desires.

If you want to take part, all you have to do is message me or @ldydeath with the prompt you want and who you’ll be writing for. It’s as easy as that! We’d love for everyone to get involved <3

Below the cut you’ll find the prompts. Ones with names beside them are the ones already taken! You can take as many as you want. More details along with a taglist will be posted closer to the end of the month. If you'd like adding to the taglist, let us know!

“If you can’t summon flames directly from hell, store-bought is fine.” ( @ldydeath | KWON JIYONG)

Decorating for Halloween ( @szonyix6277 | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Halloween baking ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Murder mystery ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SUBONG )

They’re trying to be scary and failing ( @infinetlyforgotten | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Pumpkin spice everything ( @look-attthe-moon | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Uniforms & handcuffs ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SUBONG )

Getting lost in a corn maze ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Telling ghost stories ( @lolzworld | KWON JIYONG )

Vampires ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Tailgating ( @berfgrimm | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Virtual Halloween ( @ttturnitup | KANG DAESUNG )

Stormy night ( @skzophreniic | BANG CHAN )

Walking through a graveyard ( @ldydeath | KWON JIYONG )

Fortune telling ( @szonyix6277 | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Predator Play ( @ldydeath | KANG DAESUNG )

Buying couple costumes ( @strawb3rrystar | CHOI SUBONG )

Ghost hunting ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SUBONG )

Haunted house ( @infinetlyforgotten | KANG DAESUNG )

Horror movies ( @berfgrimm | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Handing out candy ( @slut4kwon | KWON JIYONG )

Pumpkin carving ( @wcnderlnds| CHOI SUBONG )

“I can’t tell what’s scarier: you with the makeup or without.” ( @breakmeoff | KIM SEUNGMIN )

A game of truth or dare ( @jiyongsangel | KWON JIYONG )

Adopting a black cat ( @ldydeath | KANG YEOSANG )

"What do you mean you hate Halloween?" ( @ttturnitup | BANG CHAN )

Zombie apocalypse ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SUBONG )

Carnival date night ( @berfgrimm | CHOI SAN )

Ouija board ( @thanosspills | CHOI SUBONG )

Halloween Party ( @ldydeath | KWON JIYONG )

Trick or Treat ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

[wcnderlnds]

the bigbang (and friends) october writing challenge 🎃

Marissa ( @ldydeath ) and I are back at it again with our BigBang writing challenge! We did one back in April and it was so much fun and we decided since then we wanted to do one for the month of October so here we are!

This time, we've expanded it so you can write for anything you like! Whether that be BigBang, Squid Game, Stray Kids, Ateez -- any and all bands/people you'd like to write, we'd love to see it!

Each day a fic will be posted by a different writer for the whole month – the number of the prompt is the date which you’ll post your fic. They can be fluff, angst, smut – whatever your heart desires.

If you want to take part, all you have to do is message me or @ldydeath with the prompt you want and who you’ll be writing for. It’s as easy as that! We’d love for everyone to get involved <3

Below the cut you’ll find the prompts. Ones with names beside them are the ones already taken! You can take as many as you want. More details along with a taglist will be posted closer to the end of the month. If you'd like adding to the taglist, let us know!

“If you can’t summon flames directly from hell, store-bought is fine.” ( @ldydeath | KWON JIYONG)

Decorating for Halloween ( @szonyix6277 | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Halloween baking ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Murder mystery ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SUBONG )

They’re trying to be scary and failing ( @infinetlyforgotten | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Pumpkin spice everything ( @look-attthe-moon | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Uniforms & handcuffs ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SUBONG )

Getting lost in a corn maze ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Telling ghost stories ( @lolzworld | KWON JIYONG )

Vampires ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Tailgating ( @berfgrimm | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Virtual Halloween ( @ttturnitup | KANG DAESUNG )

Stormy night ( @skzophreniic | BANG CHAN )

Walking through a graveyard ( @ldydeath | KWON JIYONG )

Fortune telling ( @szonyix6277 | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Predator Play ( @ldydeath | KANG DAESUNG )

Buying couple costumes ( @strawb3rrystar | CHOI SUBONG )

Ghost hunting ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SUBONG )

Haunted house ( @infinetlyforgotten | KANG DAESUNG )

Horror movies ( @berfgrimm | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

Handing out candy ( @slut4kwon | KWON JIYONG )

Pumpkin carving ( @wcnderlnds| CHOI SUBONG )

“I can’t tell what’s scarier: you with the makeup or without.” ( @breakmeoff | KIM SEUNGMIN )

A game of truth or dare ( @jiyongsangel | KWON JIYONG )

Adopting a black cat ( @ldydeath | KANG YEOSANG )

"What do you mean you hate Halloween?" ( @ttturnitup | BANG CHAN )

Zombie apocalypse ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SUBONG )

Carnival date night ( @berfgrimm | CHOI SAN )

Ouija board ( @thanosspills | CHOI SUBONG )

Halloween Party ( @ldydeath | KWON JIYONG )

Trick or Treat ( @wcnderlnds | CHOI SEUNGHYUN )

[strawb3rrystar]

Buying couples' costumes

BIGBANG AND FRIENDS OCTOBER CHALLENGE - OCTOBER 17

Pairing: Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x Fem! Reader

Warnings: established relationship, p in v, unprotected sex, blowjob, facefucking, spanking/slapping, degrading, dom!thanos, sub!reader, "the mask stays on during sex", orgasm denial, hair pulling, cum eating

Word count: 1.7k

Your boyfriend, Su-bong, and you stepped into the costume shop, hand-in-hand. The majority of your past partners didn't find the same novelty in Halloween that you did, but your current one was different. Su-bong found joy in Halloween because it was the one night a year society wouldn't judge him for his forms of expression.

The shelves of the store were lined with everything Halloween-related you could think of, ranging from vibrant colors to the darkest blacks you could imagine.

You turn down one of the aisles lined with costumes from various franchises and stereotypes. Su-bong's eyes catch on one of those big plastic chains, a laugh leaving his lips. "Can't compare to the real thing, though. Right, babe?" he jokes, flicking the cheap accessory with his finger.

It was true that Su-bong owned multiple chains of various sizes, colours, and thickness. In your opinion, they were all a waste of money, but he is an adult, and he can make decisions for himself.

He then grabs your hand and drags you further down the aisle, stopping at an almost pornographic version of a female cop costume. "Wanna put me in handcuffs again?" he whispers in your ear, placing a feather-light kiss on your jaw. You scoff in response, rolling your eyes, "You squealed like a little girl last time because they were 'too tight', remember?"

Su-bong frowns, a look of disappointment on his face at the memory. His gaze shifts from the costume to you, "Don't remind me," he grumbles.

The costumes beside that were even less tasteful, a "sexy" nun and priest. Your boyfriend smirks once again, "I wouldn't mind giving up my celibacy if it meant fucking that cute ass." He teases, placing his hand on your waist. "Su-bong," you hiss, smacking his arm, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all."

You guys look through some more costumes. The next ones are just as outrageous as the last. Nurses, bunnies, cats, school girls, a realization dawned on you. "All of these look like they're from a porno," you comment. Su-bong laughs, shaking his head, "Holy shit, you're right!"

As you continued to walk down the aisle, the two of you realized something: all of these costumes sucked. You wanted something funky and cool. Not whatever this shit was.

But one of them catches Su-bong's eye, one that makes him stop you in your tracks by grabbing your hand. A Ghostface costume. The internet's biggest sexual fantasy come October. Though Su-bong was never the type to chase trends, he always strived to be different, unique. However, he couldn't exactly deny that the idea of having you as his helpless victim turned him on.

After some very obnoxious begging from your boyfriend, where he nearly shed tears for added effect, you agreed to get the costume for him.

That's not all you bought, oh no. You guys went all out. A prop knife, fake blood, and you even caved and bought a sexy deer costume. Su-bong was grinning ear to ear as you swiped your card at the register.

This was the easy part, buying the costumes. The hard part would be convincing you to have sex in them.

꒷꒦*✧˖°🫀⋆｡..

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, Su-bong's rough grunts combined with your desperate moans. The tips of your toes start to go numb from bending over the edge of the bed for so long. Your shoulders began to ache from having your arms behind your back. But none of that compared to the feeling of Su-bong's cock stretching you out from behind.

Your pussy makes squelching noises with every thrust, and the wetness coats your thighs. Your walls squeeze his cock, as if you never wanted to let him go. "Oh, she knows who she belongs to," he comments, a twisted grin behind his mask.

Su-bong was surprisingly good at filling the role of a deranged killer, which might make you think tomorrow, but right now, you can't think straight at all.

The pounding your weeping pussy was experiencing was addictive, and the coil in the pit of your stomach was tightened, threatening to snap under the pressure. You were on the brink of an orgasm, your gummy walls spasming. "I-I'm close.. so close..." you whimper.

A rough slap is landed on your ass, and the sting causes you to gasp. Su-bong gives a particularly rough thrust before speaking, "No, you can wait to cum," he growls. He knew that you couldn't wait. He knew that you couldn't hold back your impending orgasm for long, but he loved that. Behind his mask, his eyes gleam with an almost feral excitement.

He takes a moment to admire your bent-over state. Your ass raised high, the arch of your spine, the top of your deer costume flipped up so your tits can spill out, ears long forgotten. It was a sight for sore eyes, utter perfection to him. Su-bong wished that he could keep you like this forever, bent over and waiting for him to fill you up like a good fucktoy.

"Ah! I can't!" you writh in pleasure beneath him, unable to stop your rapidly approaching orgasm. All you see is white as your walls spasm around his cock. Your moans grow louder, but Su-bong never stops rutting into you.

Your peaks subsided, and still, Su-bong thrusting into you. Your thighs start shaking from the sensitivity of your pussy, "F-fuck..." you curse, your nails digging into your palms.

Suddenly, a harsh slap lands on your ass, the sound cracks against the walls and bounces back. The sting of Su-bong's palm follows a second after, causing tears to prick your eyes. He digs his fingers into the flesh of your asscheek. "I told you not to cum, you fucking slut," he sneers behind the mask, "Couldn't even listen to one order. Had to go squirting all over my cock like a whore."

Su-bong abruptly pulls out of your slick heat, leaving you feeling empty, a soft whimper leaving your lips. Another slap on your ass silences you, "You don't get to plead after being a bad girl."

You feel his hands leave your skin, and his warmth disappears. He walks around to the other side of the bed, slowly stroking his drenched cock in his hand. "Come," he commands, leaving no room for discussion. You follow his orders, crawling over to him obediently. As soon as you're before him, he grabs your hair, yanking you towards his cock.

He presses the tip against your lips, letting the wetness from your orgasm drip onto them. Slowly, you wrap your lips around his tip. Su-bong groans, gathering your hair in his hand, "That's it, keep going." You start taking more of him in your mouth, your tongue pressed flat against the underside of his cock. He thrusts shallowly into your mouth, basically giving you a preview of what's to come.

"Gonna be a good girl for me this time?" He asks, peering down at you. Your eyes meet his, lips stretched around his girth, and you nod your head. Su-bong grins, his grip tightening on your hair, "Yeah? You fucking better." With that, he starts to thrust. His length was halfway in your mouth, the tip brushing against the back of your throat with every thrust.

Su-bong looks down at you, watching as his cock disappears between your lips. Suddenly, he surges forward, slamming his tip into the back of your throat, making you take all of him. You choke slightly, nose brushing against his pelvis. "Aw, you always make such pretty noises for me," he coos, not letting up the snap of his hips. He uses your hair as leverage, gripping onto it tightly, to fuck your mouth senseless.

The more he thrusts into your mouth, the more your clit throbs between your thighs. You couldn't help it; the way Su-bong was dominating you completely made you hot all over. Slowly, you bring your hand down to your pussy. Your folds were still drenched and slippery, perfect for slipping your fingers in between. You just rub your clit in small circles, just enough to calm the ache.

He immediately notices and yanks your head off his cock. It startles you, a yelp leaving your throat. "Bad girls don't get to touch themselves, you hear me?" Su-bong growls, slapping your cheek lightly. You nod your head vigorously, spit dripping from your lips. Without a single breath, he shoves his cock back into your mouth.

Su-bong's hips buck against your face. Your lips now stretched tight around the base of his cock, and your nose buried in his pelvic bone. He moans out degrading words, letting the punishment sink in harder. You whimper around his length, the vibrations sending jolts throughout his body. "Fuck, gonna cum in this slutty mouth," he groans, never stopping his relentless pace.

With a few more snaps of his hips, his cock twitches, and ropes of cum shoot down your throat. He keeps you there until every drop of him has landed in your mouth. His softening cock glistens as he pulls out, hand still on your hair. "Swallow. All of it," he commands, looking down at you.

You had no choice but to follow his orders, swallowing down every last bit of his thick cum. When you're done, he forces your mouth open, checking to make sure there wasn't any left. Once he was satisfied with his inspection, he leaned down towards you. "That's a good slut," he says slowly. Then, unexpectantly, he leans in all the way. The open plastic mouth of the Ghostface mask presses against your lips, forcing you into a makeshift kiss.

Su-bong pulls away, brushing some of your hair back, then cupping your cheeks. "You're so pretty when you're getting punished, baby," he comments. You sit up, sinking back to sit on your heels. He pulls off the mask, sitting down beside you. "My throat's going to be raw for a week," you complain, lightheartedly. He rolls his eyes, pulling you into his lap.

"Next time," he starts, as if you'd let him do that again (you would). "Don't be disobedient and break my rules," he huffs, pinching your cheek lightly. "No promises," you reply, and the two of you share a laugh. Then, after everything, Su-bong pulls you in for a real, genuine kiss.

Star's notes -> Thank you so much to Chrissy and Marissa for letting me join this writing challenge!! It was really fun to write, so I hope it was just as fun to read :D

My masterlist

Taglist -> @rileylovescats @namsgyu @scara-simp69 @smutnyrobocikwrakiecie @charlenethecattt | Join the taglist!

Event taglist -> @ldydeath @szonyix6277 @infinetlyforgotten  @look-attthe-moon @wcnderlnds @jiyongsangel @lolzworld @ttturnitup @skzophreniic @strawb3rrystar @berfgrimm @slut4kwon @breakmeoff @thanosspills @sherxoo @xjohxaxnnxa @seunghyunsnosehair

[strawb3rrystar]

Buying couples' costumes

BIGBANG AND FRIENDS OCTOBER CHALLENGE - OCTOBER 17

Pairing: Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x Fem! Reader

Warnings: established relationship, p in v, unprotected sex, blowjob, facefucking, spanking/slapping, degrading, dom!thanos, sub!reader, "the mask stays on during sex", orgasm denial, hair pulling, cum eating

Word count: 1.7k

Your boyfriend, Su-bong, and you stepped into the costume shop, hand-in-hand. The majority of your past partners didn't find the same novelty in Halloween that you did, but your current one was different. Su-bong found joy in Halloween because it was the one night a year society wouldn't judge him for his forms of expression.

The shelves of the store were lined with everything Halloween-related you could think of, ranging from vibrant colors to the darkest blacks you could imagine.

You turn down one of the aisles lined with costumes from various franchises and stereotypes. Su-bong's eyes catch on one of those big plastic chains, a laugh leaving his lips. "Can't compare to the real thing, though. Right, babe?" he jokes, flicking the cheap accessory with his finger.

It was true that Su-bong owned multiple chains of various sizes, colours, and thickness. In your opinion, they were all a waste of money, but he is an adult, and he can make decisions for himself.

He then grabs your hand and drags you further down the aisle, stopping at an almost pornographic version of a female cop costume. "Wanna put me in handcuffs again?" he whispers in your ear, placing a feather-light kiss on your jaw. You scoff in response, rolling your eyes, "You squealed like a little girl last time because they were 'too tight', remember?"

Su-bong frowns, a look of disappointment on his face at the memory. His gaze shifts from the costume to you, "Don't remind me," he grumbles.

The costumes beside that were even less tasteful, a "sexy" nun and priest. Your boyfriend smirks once again, "I wouldn't mind giving up my celibacy if it meant fucking that cute ass." He teases, placing his hand on your waist. "Su-bong," you hiss, smacking his arm, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all."

You guys look through some more costumes. The next ones are just as outrageous as the last. Nurses, bunnies, cats, school girls, a realization dawned on you. "All of these look like they're from a porno," you comment. Su-bong laughs, shaking his head, "Holy shit, you're right!"

As you continued to walk down the aisle, the two of you realized something: all of these costumes sucked. You wanted something funky and cool. Not whatever this shit was.

But one of them catches Su-bong's eye, one that makes him stop you in your tracks by grabbing your hand. A Ghostface costume. The internet's biggest sexual fantasy come October. Though Su-bong was never the type to chase trends, he always strived to be different, unique. However, he couldn't exactly deny that the idea of having you as his helpless victim turned him on.

After some very obnoxious begging from your boyfriend, where he nearly shed tears for added effect, you agreed to get the costume for him.

That's not all you bought, oh no. You guys went all out. A prop knife, fake blood, and you even caved and bought a sexy deer costume. Su-bong was grinning ear to ear as you swiped your card at the register.

This was the easy part, buying the costumes. The hard part would be convincing you to have sex in them.

꒷꒦*✧˖°🫀⋆｡..

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, Su-bong's rough grunts combined with your desperate moans. The tips of your toes start to go numb from bending over the edge of the bed for so long. Your shoulders began to ache from having your arms behind your back. But none of that compared to the feeling of Su-bong's cock stretching you out from behind.

Your pussy makes squelching noises with every thrust, and the wetness coats your thighs. Your walls squeeze his cock, as if you never wanted to let him go. "Oh, she knows who she belongs to," he comments, a twisted grin behind his mask.

Su-bong was surprisingly good at filling the role of a deranged killer, which might make you think tomorrow, but right now, you can't think straight at all.

The pounding your weeping pussy was experiencing was addictive, and the coil in the pit of your stomach was tightened, threatening to snap under the pressure. You were on the brink of an orgasm, your gummy walls spasming. "I-I'm close.. so close..." you whimper.

A rough slap is landed on your ass, and the sting causes you to gasp. Su-bong gives a particularly rough thrust before speaking, "No, you can wait to cum," he growls. He knew that you couldn't wait. He knew that you couldn't hold back your impending orgasm for long, but he loved that. Behind his mask, his eyes gleam with an almost feral excitement.

He takes a moment to admire your bent-over state. Your ass raised high, the arch of your spine, the top of your deer costume flipped up so your tits can spill out, ears long forgotten. It was a sight for sore eyes, utter perfection to him. Su-bong wished that he could keep you like this forever, bent over and waiting for him to fill you up like a good fucktoy.

"Ah! I can't!" you writh in pleasure beneath him, unable to stop your rapidly approaching orgasm. All you see is white as your walls spasm around his cock. Your moans grow louder, but Su-bong never stops rutting into you.

Your peaks subsided, and still, Su-bong thrusting into you. Your thighs start shaking from the sensitivity of your pussy, "F-fuck..." you curse, your nails digging into your palms.

Suddenly, a harsh slap lands on your ass, the sound cracks against the walls and bounces back. The sting of Su-bong's palm follows a second after, causing tears to prick your eyes. He digs his fingers into the flesh of your asscheek. "I told you not to cum, you fucking slut," he sneers behind the mask, "Couldn't even listen to one order. Had to go squirting all over my cock like a whore."

Su-bong abruptly pulls out of your slick heat, leaving you feeling empty, a soft whimper leaving your lips. Another slap on your ass silences you, "You don't get to plead after being a bad girl."

You feel his hands leave your skin, and his warmth disappears. He walks around to the other side of the bed, slowly stroking his drenched cock in his hand. "Come," he commands, leaving no room for discussion. You follow his orders, crawling over to him obediently. As soon as you're before him, he grabs your hair, yanking you towards his cock.

He presses the tip against your lips, letting the wetness from your orgasm drip onto them. Slowly, you wrap your lips around his tip. Su-bong groans, gathering your hair in his hand, "That's it, keep going." You start taking more of him in your mouth, your tongue pressed flat against the underside of his cock. He thrusts shallowly into your mouth, basically giving you a preview of what's to come.

"Gonna be a good girl for me this time?" He asks, peering down at you. Your eyes meet his, lips stretched around his girth, and you nod your head. Su-bong grins, his grip tightening on your hair, "Yeah? You fucking better." With that, he starts to thrust. His length was halfway in your mouth, the tip brushing against the back of your throat with every thrust.

Su-bong looks down at you, watching as his cock disappears between your lips. Suddenly, he surges forward, slamming his tip into the back of your throat, making you take all of him. You choke slightly, nose brushing against his pelvis. "Aw, you always make such pretty noises for me," he coos, not letting up the snap of his hips. He uses your hair as leverage, gripping onto it tightly, to fuck your mouth senseless.

The more he thrusts into your mouth, the more your clit throbs between your thighs. You couldn't help it; the way Su-bong was dominating you completely made you hot all over. Slowly, you bring your hand down to your pussy. Your folds were still drenched and slippery, perfect for slipping your fingers in between. You just rub your clit in small circles, just enough to calm the ache.

He immediately notices and yanks your head off his cock. It startles you, a yelp leaving your throat. "Bad girls don't get to touch themselves, you hear me?" Su-bong growls, slapping your cheek lightly. You nod your head vigorously, spit dripping from your lips. Without a single breath, he shoves his cock back into your mouth.

Su-bong's hips buck against your face. Your lips now stretched tight around the base of his cock, and your nose buried in his pelvic bone. He moans out degrading words, letting the punishment sink in harder. You whimper around his length, the vibrations sending jolts throughout his body. "Fuck, gonna cum in this slutty mouth," he groans, never stopping his relentless pace.

With a few more snaps of his hips, his cock twitches, and ropes of cum shoot down your throat. He keeps you there until every drop of him has landed in your mouth. His softening cock glistens as he pulls out, hand still on your hair. "Swallow. All of it," he commands, looking down at you.

You had no choice but to follow his orders, swallowing down every last bit of his thick cum. When you're done, he forces your mouth open, checking to make sure there wasn't any left. Once he was satisfied with his inspection, he leaned down towards you. "That's a good slut," he says slowly. Then, unexpectantly, he leans in all the way. The open plastic mouth of the Ghostface mask presses against your lips, forcing you into a makeshift kiss.

Su-bong pulls away, brushing some of your hair back, then cupping your cheeks. "You're so pretty when you're getting punished, baby," he comments. You sit up, sinking back to sit on your heels. He pulls off the mask, sitting down beside you. "My throat's going to be raw for a week," you complain, lightheartedly. He rolls his eyes, pulling you into his lap.

"Next time," he starts, as if you'd let him do that again (you would). "Don't be disobedient and break my rules," he huffs, pinching your cheek lightly. "No promises," you reply, and the two of you share a laugh. Then, after everything, Su-bong pulls you in for a real, genuine kiss.

Star's notes -> Thank you so much to Chrissy and Marissa for letting me join this writing challenge!! It was really fun to write, so I hope it was just as fun to read :D

My masterlist

Taglist -> @rileylovescats @namsgyu @scara-simp69 @smutnyrobocikwrakiecie @charlenethecattt | Join the taglist!

Event taglist -> @ldydeath @szonyix6277 @infinetlyforgotten  @look-attthe-moon @wcnderlnds @jiyongsangel @lolzworld @ttturnitup @skzophreniic @strawb3rrystar @berfgrimm @slut4kwon @breakmeoff @thanosspills @sherxoo @xjohxaxnnxa @seunghyunsnosehair

[choiseunghyunquotes]

“I think it’s because my mind is complicated. When other kids were playing in the playground, I spent most of my time at home by myself. Since I was young, writing lyrics and rapping was one of my only joys. The solitude and loneliness became some kind of energy within me that just piled up, it comes out in the times that I need it. When I first got on stage, I saw a new side of me that I didn’t even know existed. I never got reckless though. I don’t use up my energy on senseless things either.”

— -Choi Seunghyun (Vogue Korea interview)

[choiseunghyunquotes]

“I like girls who understand me and think the same way. I like people who are more relaxed and calm as opposed to noisy people who badmouth others. And people who can dress and accessorize themselves well. If I got married to a girl like that, I think she’d decorate the house really well.”

— -Choi Seunghyun

[belleeebelleee]

Sugar Daddy Bang Chan

Bang Chan x f!reader

Synopsis: Chan becomes your sugar daddy, except y'all are in love

Warnings: daddy kink (duh), oral (m & f receiving and giving), unprotected sex (pls don't), breeding kink, face sitting, aftercare (always, no matter what), pregnancy - let me know if I'm missing anything

BestFriend!Chan, who was your friend first. You'd met years prior while he was a trainee, and the friendship had stuck. One day, he learnt that you were struggling with money and offered to help - insisted really, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Channie, I can't let you do that."

"Yes you can, I'm offering."

"Channie-"

"Don't argue with me on this, please." He pressed his lips to your forehead and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. "Let me do this for you."

BestFriend!Chan, who isn't surprised when you beg him to let you repay him in some way, he knew it was coming, knew there was no way you'd let him spend money on you and not do something in return.

"What do you suggest?"

"I don't know Chan, but I just can't do nothing!" You're frustrated, hands swinging in the air. "I'll do anything, hell I'll even suck your cock, just let me do something to repay you!"

That gets Chan's attention from where he's sitting at his desk in his studio. He splutters but you barely notice, pacing back and forth as you ramble.

You're quickly cut off when Chan's hands fund your cheeks, eyes broing into yours as he looks for any sign of discomfort.

"Say that again." You try to tilt your head in confusion, but Chan's hands are holding it in place. He sucks in a shakey breath.

"You said you'd suck my cock." Your eyes widen and Chan fears he's made a grave mistake, hands falling from your face, stepping back as he scrambles to think of a way to fix this. His thought process is cut off when you sink to your knees in front of him.

There's a smile on your face when your hands find his thighs, eyes peering up at him.

"You don't-" another shakey inhale. "You don't have to."

"Oh Channie, I've wanted to suck your cock for years." He groans at that, eyes closing and head falling forwards as his hands flex by his sides. "Please, let me suck your cock."

He nods and yanks the chair over from behind him before reaching around you to grab a cushion from the sofa in the corner of the studio.

"Stand, baby, don't want you to hurt your knees." His hands help you stand, the cushion falling to the floor as he holds you to him, close enough that you can feel his hard cock pressing into your stomach.

"Channie-" you trail off and he raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, baby?"

"You don't have to-"

"Don't you dare tell me I don't have to worry about your comfort," Chan's voice is stern. "Your comfort is important, you're important."

Leaning up, you press a kiss to his lips, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he holds you close. Pulling away, you smile, hands moving to push at his chest so he sits in his chair.

"Let me, please."

"Let you what, baby? Use your words."

"Let me suck your cock, daddy," the look that crosses over his face is downright feral. Sinking to your knees on the cushion he's placed, it's easy to pull his cock from his shorts, mouth opening in shock at the weight and size.

"Fuck, baby, 'm guessing you like the look of my cock." Nodding you lean forwards to press a kiss to his tip, relishing in the hiss that leaves his lips.

"Fuck, Channie, you're so big-" Wasting no time, your lips part to take the tip of his cock into your mouth, hands moving to stroke the rest of his length, his hips bucking when he feels your tongue trail over his slit. Shuffling forwards on your knees, his tip slips further into your mouth, making him groan and grip the arms of the chair.

"Fuck, baby-" He's cut off when you hollow your cheeks and sink further down his length, one hand moving to cup his balls, gently rolling them in your hands, making his hips buck. "Baby-"

Pulling off, a trail of spit connects your lips to his tip, and you look up at him through your lashes.

"Fuck my mouth, daddy."

SugarDaddy!Chan who hopes to God that it wasn't a one time thing and isn't disappointed when you suck his cock again the following day.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, takin me so well baby, fuck- Chan's running his mouth as his hands hold your head still, his hips bucking into your face wildly. "My pretty baby likes this, yeah? Likes the way I fuck her face?"

Moaning around his length, you know you must look pathetic, hand down your pants and makeup running as you squirm while he fucks your face.

"Listen to you, my baby's moans are so beautiful. Keep moaning for me, baby. Just like that. Keep moaning while I use you."

SugarDaddy!Chan who can't help but beg to eat you out after he's fucked your face.

"Baby, please, wanna return the favour."

"Channie, me sucking you off was returning your favour."

"Then let me eat you out cause I want to."

SugarDaddy!Chan, who fucks you for the first time after six months of your arrangement.

"Shit, pussy feels so good, fucken made for me sweetheart." He's got your legs over his shoulders as he thrusts his cock into you from above, body moving frantically, hands gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck, cum for me baby, you gotta cum for me, cum all over my cock."

His hand moves to slap your clit harshly, your body shaking as your pussy spasms around his cock, a squeal leaving your lips.

"Fuck fuck daddy fuck I'm cumming, fuck, please don't stop, fuck-" Chan's hips are moving faster, thrusts harsher and sloppier as he hurtles towards his orgasm, grunts forcing their way from his lips.

"Where baby?"

"Inside daddy, fuck, fill me up, please, fuck-" your pleas for his cum are cut off by his lips sealing over yours as his warm cum floods your pussy, ropes painting your walls and seeping out the edges.

SugarDaddy!Chan who holds you close after he's cleaned you up, arms around you, hands stroking your skin. He presses his cheek to the top of your head and relishes in the feel of your skin on his.

SugarDaddy!Chan, who comes running when you call him on a night out with the girls, voice shakey and quiet as you whispered about the guy who's been bothering you all night. He's in his car before you've finished your sentence.

"Baby!" You hear him before you see him, his voice carrying through the door of the women's bathroom.

"Channie!" You're colliding with his chest a few moments later, his hand cradling the back of your head as he holds you close.

"Hi baby," he kisses your cheek. "You ok?"

Nodding, you press further into him, asking him to take you home.

SugarDaddy!Chan, who asks you to move in with him after that night. He claims it's because he wants you safe, but it's really because he wants you close at all times.

SugarDaddy!Chan, who slowly acts more and more boyfriend like, until the lines are too blurred to decipher.

SugarDaddy!Chan, who introduces himself as your boyfriend to everyone you meet, until one night, during post fuck cuddles, you ask him if he would ever date you.

"Would you.. ever date me? Like, for real?" He looks over, alarmed.

"We are dating for real!" His face falls. "Aren't we?"

"I don't know, we never made it official or said anything so I just kinda.. assumed we were- I don't know, fucking."

"We are fucking." His voice is monotone but his face panicked. "But we're also very much in love."

There's silence for a moment.

"Aren't we?" He sounds desperate, broken.

"I am." His body relaxes, arms tightening around you as he rolls to hover over you.

"I love you, baby," he grins and presses a kiss to your lips. "Now, be a good girl and let me show you how much."

[daisyvisions]

hey bestie do you have any thoughts on boyfriend hyunjae letting his best friend sunwoo fuck you bc he knows sunwoo has the biggest crush on his partner 🥺 asking for a friend… quite literally 🐶

A/N: with pleasure 😘 say hi to your friend for me 😉

Anything For My Bestest Friend

Members: Lee Hyunjae & Kim Sunwoo

Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), p in v sex, squirting, mentions of eating, semi voyeurism themes, a lil possessive Hyunjae, lil pervy Sunwoo, pet names (sweetheart, bunny, etc), mentions of breeding ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

How Hyunjae found out about Sunwoo’s fat crush on you was rather… unexpected.

You’d think maybe Hyunjae noticed the way Sunwoo was looking at you or how his face would light up whenever you entered the room, but it was none of that at all. In fact, it happened one day when Hyunjae came over Sunwoo’s place.

While Hyunjae waited for Sunwoo to get out of the shower, he noticed Sunwoo’s porn tab wasn’t closed (typical). Hyunjae was amused at first, wondering what kind of shit his best friend watches.

But what Hyunjae didn’t expect was that the woman in the video looked incredibly similar to you. At first Hyunjae thought it was just his imagination, but he decided to see if his theory was true by bringing up his sex life later during dinner.

This obviously caught Sunwoo by surprise to say the least. Hyunjae can be quite the blabber mouth but not when it’s about you especially intimate information like the sensitive spots on your neck, and the position that makes you squirt.

What the fuck is Sunwoo supposed to do with this information now? But Hyunjae was just having the time of his life seeing Sunwoo get all nervous.

He doesn't know where it came from but he suddenly thought of maybe even letting Sunwoo get a taste of you just one time (which was rather uncommon for him since Hyunjae can be quite…. possessive).

“C’mon sweetheart, it will be fun I promise.” Hyunjae coos in your ear while fucking you against the kitchen counter.

“Fuck- D-do we really have to talk about this now?” you whine. Why was Hyunjae even proposing his plan to let Sunwoo fuck you while he was pounding you at this moment was beyond you.

“Please, I just- I just wanna make my best friend happy okay? And what better way to let him get a taste of your sweet sweet pussy hm?” he drives a particularly hard thrust as he says the last word.

But you can hear the sincerity behind it. You know how Hyunjae is when it comes to his friends. They always come first in his list and that’s something you’d always admired about him.

Eventually you agreed to the little plan he had for Sunwoo.

“Remember, he can’t cum inside you. Okay?” Hyunjae whispers to you as he pumped his fingers in and out of your wet cunt prepping you for Sunwoo’s arrival.

“Y-yes… He won’t. That’s only for you-” you moan as you slowly come down from your high.

“Good bunny.” Hyunjae replies.

-----------------

When Sunwoo had gotten home, he was surprised to see Hyunjae sitting and waiting on the couch. “Perfect you’re home! We’ve been waiting for you” Hyunjae exclaims.

“W-we?” Sunwoo questions.

“Yes! Your gift is just waiting in your room. Go see for yourself…” Hyunjae grins from ear-to-ear.

The moment Sunwoo opened his door he was expecting to see clothes, new parts for his pc, etc. He did not expect to see your naked body sprawled out on his bed AT ALL.

“OH MY GOD!” Sunwoo immediately covers his eyes, in a state of shock at the sight before him. He felt his cock throb so hard seeing a glimpse of your tits and soft curves, the very image he often thinks about at night when he’s pumping his cock harshly with his fist.

But before Sunwoo has time to make a run for it, Hyunjae shoves him inside his room and locks the door, leaving him and you alone.

“Hyung what the fuck!” Sunwoo shouts, his hands still covering his eyes though he desperately wants to peek through his fingers to see your body again.

“Sunwoo…” you call out for his name in a sing-song manner. “Open your eyes honey, it’s okay.”

He slowly uncovers his eyes and he’s greeted by your naked figure sitting at the edge of the bed. He’s trying so hard not to freak out about the situation but it’s so hard when all he’s thinking about is sucking on your tits.

“What the hell is going on?” Sunwoo asks you.

“Honestly? I’m not sure but Hyunjae told me about this plan so here I am. Like what you see?” You smile prettily at him.

Sunwoo doesn’t move from his spot, still in shock at everything that’s happen so far.

“Sunwoo… won't you come play with me. Please?” You pout and give him your most doe-eyed look. How can he say no especially when you look at him that way and call at his name like that?

“Fuck it-” Sunwoo mutters under his breath as he quickly strips down naked and kneels down in front of you to finally have a taste of your sweet cunt.

It’s been a couple of minutes since Hyunjae left you both alone, watching tv while he waits for this to be over and done with. He could hear your sweet sweet moans through the wall. The moans that fuel the fire inside him.

Though for some reason your moans were sounding a little too sweet… not even as sweet as when you two are together. So he goes and checks in on you and Sunwoo for “safe” measure.

Hyunjae knocks on the door and peeks in and is greeted by the sight of Sunwoo pounding you from behind which locking you in place with his arm wrapped around your neck.

“How's my best friend doing? Enjoying yourself?” Hyunjae asks Sunwoo. But all he gets in reply are low grunts and groans as Sunwoo’s eyes flutter shut from the tightness of your cunt wrapping around his cock.

“And what about you sweetheart? Enjoying yourself too?” Knowing Hyunjae, that was a trick question.

“Y-yeah. But not as good as your cock H-hyunjae…” And that’s exactly what Hyunjae wanted to hear from you.

“Sunwoo, I told you how to get her to squirt right? You should try it. It’s quite a sight to see” You squint your eyes at Hyunjae while he smirks back at you in response. You mentally curse him for telling Sunwoo about that very intimate detail.

Sunwoo wastes no time and quickly pulls his cock out, flips you around and lays you down on the bed. He holds your thighs down folding you like a pretzel and immediately pushes his length inside you once again.

And just like clockwork, you do end up squirting all over Sunwoo’s cock and on his sheets (which he won’t be washing for a while). He returns the favor by releasing his load all over your stomach, painting your soft skin with his hot white cum.

As Sunwoo starts putting back his clothes on and leaving his room, Hyunjae stops him.

“Where do you think you're going?” You and Sunwoo both look at Hyunjae in confusion.

“Since you like watching porn of women that look like Y/n-” He pauses for a brief moment, looking into Sunwoo’s embarrassed eyes.

“-Why don’t you sit down and watch me fuck her this time? I swear, she’s got the prettiest look on her face when I breed her like my little bunny…”